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LONDON  PARKS  AND  GARDENS 


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LONDON  PARKS  AND 
GARDENS 


BY 


THE   HON^LE  MRS.   EVELYN   CECIL 

(ALICIA  AMHERST) 
Citizen  and  Gardener  of  London 

author  of  "a  history  of  gardening  in  england" 

"  children's  GARDENS,"   ETC. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 

LADY  VICTORIA  MANNERS 


Reade  the  ivhole  and  thtn  judge  ^^ 

John  Christopherson, 

Bishop  of  Chichester.  1554 


NEW  YORK 
E.  P.  BUTTON   AND   COMPANY 

1907 


Printed  by 

Ballantyne,  Hanson  dr^  Co. 

Edinburgh 


College 

n07 


PREFACE 

In  spite  of  the  abundance  of  books  on  London,  not 
one  exists  which  tells  the  story  of  the  Parks  and 
Gardens  as  a  whole.  Some  of  the  Royal  Parks  have 
been  dealt  with,  and  most  of  the  Municipal  Parks,  but 
in  separate  works.  When  Squares  are  touched  on,  in 
guide-books,  or  in  volumes  to  themselves,  the  Gardens 
are  for  the  most  part  left  alone,  and  gossip  of  the 
inhabitants  forms  the  centre  of  the  narrative.  This  is 
the  case  also  with  public  buildings  and  private  houses 
which  have  gardens  attached  to  them.  To  give  a 
sketch  of  the  history  of  the  more  important  Parks  and 
Gardens,  and  to  point  out  any  features  of  horticultural 
interest,  is  the  object  of  the  following  pages.  London 
is  such  a  wide  word,  and  means  such  a  different  area 
at  various  periods,  that  it  has  been  necessary  to  make 
some  hard  and  fast  rule  to  define  the  scope  of  this 
work.  I  have,  therefore,  decided  to  keep  strictly  to 
the  limits  of  the  County  of  London  within  the  official 
boundaries  of  the  London  County  Council  at  the  present 
time. 

I  would  express  my  thanks  to  the  authorities  of  the 


vi  PREFACE 

Parks,  both  Royal  and  Municipal,  for  their  courtesy  in 
affording  me  information,  and  to  many  friends  who 
have  facilitated  my  search  in  historical  and  private 
gardens.  I  am  also  extremely  grateful  to  my  friend, 
Miss  Margaret  MacArthur,  who  has  assisted  me  in  the 
tedious  task  of  correcting  proofs.  The  lists  of  trees 
and  shrubs,  and  of  plants  in  the  beds  in  Hyde  Park,  were 
kindly  drawn  up  for  me  by  the  Park  Superintendent, 
the  late  Mr.  Jordan,  with  the  consent  of  H.M.  Office 
of  Works. 

ALICIA  M.  CECIL. 

lO  Eaton   Place, 

ylugust  1907. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP 
I. 

Introductory    .... 

PAGE 
I 

II. 

Hyde  Park        .... 

23 

III. 

St.  James's  and  Green  Parks 

56 

IV. 

Regent's  Park 

83 

V. 

Greenwich  Park 

106 

VI. 

Municipal  Parks 

119 

VII. 

South  London  Parks 

155 

VIII. 

Commons  and  Open  Spaces 

185 

IX. 

Squares 

217 

X. 

Burial-Grounds 

242 

XI. 

Inns  of  Court          .... 

261 

XII. 

Historical  Gardens 

2S9 

XIII. 

Private  Gardens 

327 

Appendix  to  Private  Gardens  :    Charlton 

357 

List  of  some  of  the  Works  Consulted 

361 

Hyde   Park  and   Kensington  Gardens  :    List  of 

Trees  and  Shrubs 

368 

INDEX 

377 

LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


COLOURED    PLATES 

St.  Katharine's  Lodge,  Regent's  Park 

Dolphin  Fountain,  Hyde  Park 

Autumn  Beds,  Hyde  Park 

Fountain    by    Countess     Feodor    Gleichen 

Hyde  Park         

Crocuses  in  Early  Spring,  St.  James's  Park 
Autumn  in  Regent's  Park 
Spring  in  Regent's  Park 

Waterlow  Park 

Old  English  Garden,  Brockwell  Park 

Statue  of  Pitt,  Hanover  Square  . 

Statue  of  William  IH.  in  St.  James's  Square 

St.  Paul's  Churchyard    .         .         . 

The  Bank  Garden   .         . 

The  Inner  Temple  Garden     . 

The  Fountain  Court,  Middle  Temple  . 

Lincoln's  Inn 

The  Garden  Gates,  Gray's  Inn 
Grey  Coat  School,  Westminster   . 
The  Little  Cloister,  Westminster  Abbey 
Herbaceous  Border,  Lambeth  Palace  . 


Frontispiece 
To  face  page     38 


54 
64 
90 
102 
148 
172 
220 
226 
250 
258 
270 
276 
28c 
288 
298 
302 
306 


X  LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

Statue  of  Charles  II.,  Chelsea  Hospital    .  To  face  page  312 

Chelsea  Physic  Garden  ...•„>>  3^4 

The  Garden  of  Sir  Laurence  Alma-Tadema, 

R.A „         n  334 

The  Lily  Pond,  Holland  House    ...,,„  340 

St.  John's  Lodge,  Regent's  Park  .         .         .       „         „  347 


IN   THE   TEXT 

Dolphin  Fountain  in  Hyde  Park  . 

Fountains  at  the  End  of  the  Serpentine 

A  Corner  of  the  Queen  Victoria  Memorial  Garden 

Stone  Vase  in  Regent's  Park         .... 

Pagoda  on  the  Island,  Victoria  Park  . 

Stoke  Newington  Church  from  Clissold  Park    . 

Fountain  by  Tinworth,  Kennington  Park    , 

Statue  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  Paddington  Green 

Winter  Garden,  Duke  Street,  Grosvenor  Square 

Sundial,  St.  Botolph's     . 

Trinity  Almshouses,  Mile  End  Road 

Abbey  Garden,  Westminster  . 

Garden  Gate,  Chelsea  Hospital     . 

In  the  Garden,  St.  John's  Lodge  . 


I'AGE 

39 
43 
81 

lOI 

138 

143 
167 
214 

220 
256 

293 
301 

314 
349 


London  Parks  ^  Gardens 


CHAPTER    I 

INTRODUCTORY 

London,  thou  art  the  Flour  of  cities  all, 

— William  Dunbar,  146 5- 1530. 


ONDON  has  a  peculiar  fascination 
of  its  own,  and  to  a  vast  number 
of  English-speaking  people  all 
over  the  world  it  appeals  with 
irresistible  force.  So  much  has 
been  said  and  written  about  it 
that  the  theme  might  seem  to  be 
worn  out,  yet  there  are  still  fresh 
aspects  to  present,  still  hidden  charms  to  discover,  still 
deep  problems  to  solve.  The  huge,  unwieldly  mass, 
which  cannot  be  managed  or  legislated  for  as  other 
towns,  but  has  to  be  treated  as  a  county,  enfolds  within 
its  area  all  the  phases  of  human  life.  It  embraces  every 
gradation  from  wealth  to  poverty,  from  the  millionaire 
to  the  pauper  alien.  The  collection  of  buildings  which 
together  make  London  are  a  most  singular  assortment 
of  innumerable  variations  between  beauty  and  ugliness, 
between  palaces  and  works  of  art  and  hovels  of  sordid 
and  unlovely  squalor. 

A 


2        LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

An  Englishman  must  be  almost  without  soul  who 
can  stand  for  the  first  time  unmoved  within  the  pre- 
cincts of  Westminster  Abbey  or  look  without  satisfaction 
at  the  faultless  proportions  of  St.  Paul's.  The  sense  of 
possession,  the  pride  of  inheritance,  are  the  uppermost 
feelings  in  his  mind.  But  he  who  loves  not  only 
London  itself  with  a  patriotic  veneration,  but  also  his 
fellow-men,  will  not  rest  with  the  inspection  of  the 
beautiful.  He  will  journey  eastward  into  the  heart  of 
the  mighty  city,  and  see  its  seething  millions  at  work, 
its  dismal  poverty,  its  relentless  hardness.  The  respon- 
sibility of  heirship  comes  over  him,  the  sadness,  the 
pathos,  the  evil  of  it  all  depresses  him,  the  hopelessness 
of  the  contrast  overpowers  him ;  but  apart  from  all 
ideas  of  social  reform,  from  legislative  action  or  phil- 
anthropic theories,  there  is  one  thin  line  of  colour 
running  through  the  gloomy  picture.  The  parks  and 
gardens  of  London  form  bright  spots  in  the  landscape. 
They  are  beyond  the  pale  of  controversy ;  they  appeal 
to  all  sections  of  the  community,  to  the  workers  as 
well  as  to  the  idlers,  to  the  rich  as  well  as  to  the 
poor,  to  the  thoughtful  as  well  as  to  the  careless. 
From  the  utilitarian  point  of  view  they  are  essential. 
They  bring  new  supplies  of  oxygen,  and  allow  the  freer 
circulation  of  health-giving  fresh  air.  They  are  not 
less  useful  as  places  of  exercise  and  recreation.  They 
waft  a  breath  of  nature  where  it  is  most  needed,  and 
the  part  they  play  in  brightening  the  lives  of  countless 
thousands  cannot  be  over-estimated. 

The  parks  and  gardens  of  London  have  a  past  full 
of  historical  associations,  and  at  the  present  time  their 
full  importance  is  slowly  being  realised.  Much  has 
been    done    to  improve    and   beautify   them,  but   much 


INTRODUCTORY         3 

remains  to  be  achieved  in  that  direction  before  their 
capabilities  will  have  been  thoroughly  developed.  The 
opportunity  is  great,  and  if  only  the  best  use  can  be 
made  of  it  London  Parks  could  be  the  most  beautiful 
as  well  as  the  most  useful  in  the  world.  It  is  impossible 
to  praise  or  criticise  them  collectively,  as  they  have 
different  origins,  are  administered  by  separate  bodies, 
and  have  distinct  functions  to  perform.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  the  laying  out  in  some  and  the  planting  in 
other  cases  could  be  improved.  Plans  could  be  carried 
out  with  more  taste  than  is  sometimes  shown,  and  new 
ideas  be  encouraged,  but  on  the  whole  there  is  so  much 
that  is  excellent  and  well  done  that  there  is  a  great  deal 
to  be  proud  of. 

The  various  open  spaces  in  London  can  easily  be 
grouped  into  classes.  First  there  are  the  Royal  Parks, 
with  a  history  and  management  of  their  own ;  then  there 
are  all  the  Parks  either  created  or  kept  up  by  the  London 
County  Council,  and  most  of  the  commons  and  other 
large  open  spaces  are  in  their  jurisdiction  also,  though 
a  few  parks  and  recreation  grounds  are  under  the 
borough  councils.  Municipal  bodies  for  the  most 
part  take  charge  of  all  the  disused  burial  grounds  con- 
verted into  gardens,  though  some  are  maintained  by 
the  parish  or  the  rector.  Then  there  is  another  class 
of  garden  which  must  be  included,  namely,  all  the 
squares  of  London,  as,  although  few  are  open  to  the 
public,  they  form  no  insignificant  proportion  of  the 
unbuilt  area. 

All  through  London  there  are  survivals  of  old 
gardens,  which  are  still  either  quiet  and  concealed,  or 
thrown  open  to  the  public.  Such  are  the  grounds  of 
the  Charterhouse,  of  Chelsea  Hospital,  or  of  the  Foundling 


4        LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Hospital,  and  of  other  old-world  haunts  of  peace.  The 
rarest  thing  in  London  are  the  private  gardens,  yet  they 
too  go  to  make  up  the  aggregate  lungs  of  the  city. 
Out  of  a  total  of  upwards  of  75,000  acres  there  are 
in  round  numbers  some  6000  acres  of  parks,  com- 
mons, squares,  and  open  spaces  in  London :  of  these 
a  little  over  4000  acres  are  in  the  hands  of  the  London 
County  Council.  Besides  this  it  administers  nearly 
900  acres  outside  the  county.  The  City  of  London 
owns  large  forest  tracts,  commons,  and  parks  beyond 
the  limit  of  the  County  of  London — Epping,  Burnham 
Beeches,  Highgate  Wood,  and  parks  in  West  Ham, 
Kilburn,  &c. — altogether  nearly  6500  acres. 

London  is  such  a  wide  word,  it  is  difficult  to  set  a 
limit,  and  to  decide  what  open  spaces  actually  belong 
to  London.  As  the  town  stretches  away  into  the 
country,  it  is  impossible  to  see  the  boundaries  of  London. 
The  line  must  be  drawn  near  where  the  chimney-pots 
become  incessant,  and  the  stems  of  the  trees  become 
black.  But  the  degree  of  blackness,  dirt,  and  density 
is  impossible  to  decide  ;  so  a  prosaic,  matter-of-fact,  but 
necessary  rule  has  been  adhered  to  in  the  following  pages, 
of  keeping  as  strictly  as  possible  to  the  actual  defined 
limits  of  the  County  of  London.  Therefore  all  the  parks 
owned  by  the  City  Corporation  or  London  County 
Council  outside  this  limit  have  not  been  dealt  with,  and 
such  places  as  Chiswick,  Kew,  Richmond,  or  Gunners- 
bury  have  been  omitted. 

To  get  to  some  of  these  places  involves  a  consider- 
able journey.  Many  of  the  outlying  parks  have  to  be 
reached  by  train,  or  by  a  very  long  drive,  or  tram  ride. 
From  Hyde  Park  Corner,  for  instance,  to  Bostall  Wood 
or  Avery  Hill  is  a  long  expedition.     To  the  fortunate 


INTRODUCTORY  5 

few  who  possess  motor  cars  the  distances  are  trifling,  but 
the  vast  majority  of  people  must  exercise  considerable 
ingenuity,  and  possess  a  good  bump  of  locality,  if  they 
wish  to  visit  all  London's  open  spaces.  A  knowledge 
of  the  distant  places,  the  names  of  which  are  inscribed 
in  large  letters  on  every  omnibus,  is  necessary.  The 
Royal  Oak,  Elephant  and  Castle,  or  Angel,  are  but 
starting-places  for  the  more  distant  routes,  although 
they  form  the  goal  of  green,  red,  or  blue  'busses.  The 
electric  trams  of  South  London  have  made  the  approach 
to  Dulwich,  Peckham,  Greenwich,  and  many  other  parks 
much  more  simple,  and  motor  'busses  rattle  along  close  to 
even  the  distant  Golder's  Hill  or  Highbury  Fields.  With 
a  railway  time-table,  a  good  eye  for  colour  in  selecting 
the  right  omnibus,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  points  of  the 
compass,  every  green  patch  in  London  can  be  reached 
with  ease,  even  by  those  whose  purses  are  not  long 
enough  to  let  them  indulge  in  motors,  or  whose  nerves 
are  not  steady  enough  to  let  them  venture  on  bicycles. 

Each  park  forms  the  central  point  of  some  large 
district,  and  they  are  not  dependent  on  the  casual  visitor 
for  appreciation.  Every  single  green  spot,  on  a  fine 
Saturday  throughout  the  year,  is  peopled  with  a  crowd 
from  the  neighbourhood,  and  on  every  day  in  the  year, 
winter  as  well  as  summer,  almost  every  open  space  has 
a  ceaseless  throng  of  comers  and  goers. 

What  is  the  cost  of  maintenance  of  these  parks  is  a 
question  that  will  naturally  occur ;  and  the  answer  in 
many  cases  is  easy  to  find,  as  the  statistics  of  both  the 
London  County  Council  Parks,  published  in  their  hand- 
book, and  those  of  the  Royal  Parks,  which  are  submitted 
to  Parliament  every  year,  are  accessible.  The  following 
extracts   may,  however,  be  useful.      In  looking  at  the 


6        LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

two  sets  of  figures,  of  course  the  acreage  must  be  borne 
in  mind,  and  the  great  expense  of  police  in  the  Royal 
Parks,  amounting  to  ^^8782  for  Hyde  Park  alone,  must 
be  deducted  before  any  fair  comparison  can  be  made, 
even  when  results  are  not  considered. 


1907-8. 

1906-7. 

New 

Acres. 

Wages 
and 

Police, 
Park- 

Works 
and 

Mainte- 

Total. 

Total. 

Salaries. 

keepers. 

Altera- 
tions. 

£ 

£ 

£ 

£ 

£ 

£ 

I.  Greenwich 
(  Hyde  Park  \ 

185 

225 

1,090 

^75 

3.737 

S.3I9 

4.SS4 

2.   <  St.  James's  v 
{  Green  Park  j 

509h 

724 

12,153 

4.96.S 

50,886 

69,269 

48,83s 

3.   Kensington  Gardens 
i  Regent's  Park  \ 

274 

138 

1.590 

5° 

S.831 

7.730 

7.804 

4.   <           and            V  . 
[  Primrose  Hill  J 

472I 

290 

2,171 

300 

",417 

14,542 

13.329 

Taken  from  the  Estimates  for  1907-8. 


Battersea 

Brockwell 

Dulwich 

Finsbury 

Victoria 

Waterlow 


Acres. 


Net 

Aggregate 

Capital 

Expenditure. 


199 

127^ 

72 

"S 

217 

26 


£ 

21,042 
114,322 

45.510 
137.934 

38,430 

11,178 


Average 

Cost  of 

Maintenance. 


Number 
of  Staff. 


£ 
10,897 

4.493 
3.330 
7,649 
12,099 
2,658 


92 

34 
28 

52 

107 

24 


Taken  fy-om  L.C.C.  Handbook  No.  1009,  1906. 


London  has  always  been  a  city  of  gardens,  and 
although  much  boast  is  made  of  the  newly-acquired 
open  spaces,  a  wail  for  those  destroyed  would  have  equal 
justification.     It  is  very  terrible  that  everything  in  life 


INTRODUCTORY  7 

has  to  be  learnt  by  slow  and  hard  lessons,  dearly  pur- 
chased under  the  iron  rod  of  experience.  It  is  not  till 
the  want  of  a  green  spot  is  brought  painfully  home  to 
people  by  its  loss,  that  the  thought  of  saving  the  last 
remaining  speck  of  greenery  is  borne  in  upon  them  with 
sufficient  force  to  transform  the  wish  into  action.  For 
generations  garden  after  garden  has  passed  into  building 
land.  No  one  has  a  right  to  grudge  the  wealth  or  pros- 
perity that  has  accrued  in  consequence,  but  the  wish  that 
the  benevolence  and  foresight  of  past  days  had  taken  a 
different  bent,  and  that  a  more  systematic  retention  of 
some  of  the  town  gardens  had  received  attention,  cannot 
be  banished. 

When  Roman  civilisation  had  been  swept  away  in 
Britain,  and  with  it  all  vestiges  of  the  earliest  gardens, 
there  are  no  vestiges  of  horticulture  until  Christianity  had 
taken  hold  of  the  country,  and  religious  houses  were 
rising  up  in  various  parts  of  the  kingdom.  The  cradle 
of  modern  gardening  may  be  said  to  have  been  within 
the  peaceful  walls  of  these  monastic  foundations.  In  no 
part  of  the  country  were  they  more  numerous  than  in 
and  around  London,  and  it  is  probable  that  every  estab- 
lishment had  its  garden  for  the  supply  of  vegetables,  and 
more  particularly  medicinal  herbs.  Attached  to  most 
of  them,  there  was  also  a  special  garden  for  the  produc- 
tion of  flowers  for  decoration  on  church  festivals.  It  is 
probable  that  the  earliest  London  gardens  were  of  this 
monastic  character,  and  as  long  as  the  buildings  were 
maintained  the  gardens  were  in  existence.  The  Grey, 
the  Black,  the  White,  and  the  Austin  Friars  all  had 
gardens  within  their  enclosures ;  and  the  Hospitaller 
Orders — the  Templars  and  Knights  of  St.  John — had 
large    gardens    within    their    precincts.       The    Temple 


8         LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Garden  is  still  one  of  the  charms  of  London,  but  only 
the  old  gateway  of  the  Priory  of  St.  John  in  Clerken- 
well  remains,  and  the  garden,  with  all  its  historical 
associations,  has  long  since  vanished.  It  was  in  a  small 
upper  room,  "  next  the  garden  in  the  Hospital  of  St. 
John  of  Jerusalem  in  England,  without  the  bars  of 
West  Smythfield,"  that  Henry  VII.,  in  the  first  year 
of  his  reign,  gave  the  Great  Seal  to  John  Morton, 
Bishop  of  Ely,  and  appointed  him  Chancellor,  and  he 
"  carried  the  seal  with  him "  to  his  house,  Ely  Place, 
hard  by.^  These  small  references  show  the  picturesque 
side  of  such  events,  the  gardens  constantly  being  the 
background  of  the  scenes. 

It  is  only  one  more  of  the  regrettable  results  of  the 
barbarous  way  in  which  the  Reformation  was  carried  out 
in  England,  that  the  gardens  shared  the  fate  of  the 
stately  buildings  round  whose  sheltering  walls  they 
flourished.  It  is  not  easy  to  picture  the  desolation  of 
those  days :  the  unkept,  uncared-for  garden,  trodden 
under  foot,  makes  the  forlorn  aspect  of  the  despoiled 
monasteries  more  pathetic. 

London  was  a  city  of  palaces  in  Plantagenet  times, 
and  the  great  nobles  had  their  gardens  near  or  surround- 
ing their  castles.  Bayard's  Castle,  facing  the  river  for 
centuries,  had  its  gardens,  and  there  were  spacious 
gardens  within  the  precincts  of  the  Tower  when  it  was 
the  chief  royal  residence  in  London,  and  outside  the 
walls  of  the  City  fine  dwellings  and  large  gardens  were 
clustered  together.  Among  the  most  famous  in  the 
thirteenth  century  was  the  Earl  of  Lincoln's,  purchased 
from  the  Dominicans,  when  they  outgrew  their  demesne 
in  Holborn,  and  migrated  to  the  riverside,  where  their 
1  Close  Roll,  Henry  VII. 


INTRODUCTORY  9 

memory  ever  lives  under  their  popular  name  of  the  Black 
Friars.  Minute  accounts  of  the  expenses  of  this  garden 
are  preserved  in  the  Manor  Roll,  and  a  very  fairly 
accurate  picture  of  what  it  was  can  be  pieced  together. 
The  chief  flowers  in  it  were  roses,  and  the  choicest  to 
be  found  at  that  date,  the  sweet-scented  double  red 
"  rosa  gallica,"  would  be  in  profusion.  It  might  be  that, 
in  the  shady  corners  of  the  garden,  periwinkle  trailed 
upon  the  ground,  and  violets  perfumed  the  air.  White 
Madonna  lilies  reared  their  stately  heads  among  the 
clove  pinks,  lavender,  and  thyme.  Peonies,  colum- 
bines, hollyhocks,  honeysuckle,  corncockles,  and  iris, 
white,  purple,  and  yellow,  made  no  mean  show.  The 
orchard  could  boast  of  many  kinds  of  pears  and  apples, 
cherries  and  nuts.  A  piece  of  water  described  as  "  the 
greater  ditch  "  ^  formed  the  fish  stew  where  pike  were 
kept  and  artificially  fed.  Besides  all  this,  there  was  a 
considerable  vineyard.  It  was  thought  a  favourable  spot 
for  vines,  and  the  Bishop  of  Ely's  vineyard,  the  site  of 
which  is  still  remembered  by  Vine  Street,  was  hard  by. 
A  good  deal  of  imagination  is  now  required  to  conjure 
up  a  picture  of  a  vintage  in  Holborn.  Amid  the  crowd 
of  cabs,  carts,  carriages,  and  omnibuses  rolling  all 
day  over  the  Viaduct  from  Oxford  Street  to  the  heart  of 
the  City,  it  needs  as  fertile  a  brain  as  that  of  the  poet 
who  pictured  the  vision  of  poor  Susan  as  she  listens 
to  the  song  of  the  bird  in  Wood  Street  to  call  up  such 
a  scene.  The  gardens  sloping  down  to  the  "  bourne  " 
were  carefully  enclosed — the  Earl  of  Lincoln's  by  strong 
wooden  palings,  that  of  Ely  Place  by  a  thorn  hedge 
with    wooden  gates   fitted   with  keys  and  locks. ^     The 

1  MSS.  Manor  Roll  in  the  Record  Office. 

2  MSS.  Manor  Roll,  Archives  of  Ely  Cathedral. 


10      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

inner  gardens,  that  were  specially  reserved  for  the  Bishop, 
the  great  garden  and  the  "  grassyard,"  were  separated  by 
railings  and  locked  doors  from  the  vineyard.  The 
"  grassyard "  was  mown,  and  a  tithe  of  the  proceeds 
from  the  sale  of  the  grass  paid  to  the  Rector  of  St. 
Andrew's,  Holborn.  The  wine  produced  was  more 
of  the  character  of  vinegar,  and  was  also  sold  ;  as  much 
as  thirty  gallons  of  this  "verjuice"  was  produced  in 
one  year.  Extra  hands  were  hired  to  weed  and  dress 
the  vineyard,  and  apparently  the  vineyard  entailed  a 
good  deal  of  trouble,  and  for  many  years  it  was  let. 
Think  of  a  warm  day  in  early  autumn,  clusters  of  grapes 
hanging  from  the  twisted  vines,  men  and  women  in  gay 
colours  carrying  baskets  of  ripe  fruit  to  the  vats  where 
they  were  trodden,  and  the  crimson  juice  squeezed  out ; 
the  mellow  rays  of  the  sinking  sun  light  up  the  high 
walls  and  many  towers  of  the  City,  and  the  distant  pile 
of  Westminster  is  half  hidden  by  the  mists  rising  from 
the  river,  while  there,  too,  the  vintage  is  in  full  swing, 
and  the  song  ^  of  the  grape-gatherers  breaks  the  stillness 
of  the  October  evening.  Away  to  the  north  the  land- 
scape is  bounded  by  the  wooded  heights  of  Hampstead 
and  Highgate.  Most  of  the  country  round  London 
then  was  forest  land,  and  in  spite  of  the  changes  of 
centuries  a  few  acres  of  the  original  forest  remain  in 
Highgate  Woods  to  this  day,  now  owned  by  the  Corpo- 
ration of  London.  Between  the  hills  and  the  city  on  the 
north-east  lay  the  marshy  ground  known  as  Moorfields, 
for  some  800  years  the  favourite  resort  of  Londoners 
wishing  to  take  the  air.  Gradually  this  open  space 
has  been  built  over,  although  a  few  green  patches,  such 
as  Finsbury  Square,  the  Artillery  Ground,  or  the  more 
^  See  Alexander  Necham,  De  Naiiiris  Rerum,  twelfth  century. 


INTRODUCTORY  1 1 

distant  Bunhill  Fields,  have  remained  through  the  changes 
time  has  wrought.  This  space  might  have  been  like 
one  of  the  other  heaths  or  commons  of  London,  a 
beautiful  open  space  in  the  heart  of  the  town,  but  the 
supposed  exigencies  of  modern  civilisation,  with  the  usual 
want  of  foresight,  have  banished  the  life-giving  fresh  air, 
and  the  Corporation  of  London  has  had  to  go  far  afield, 
to  Burnham  Beeches  and  Epping  Forest,  to  supply  what 
once  was  at  its  door.  Literally  at  its  door,  as  the 
busy  street  of  Moorgate  recalls  the  Mayor,  Thomas 
Falconer  by  name,  who  in  141 5  "caused  the  wall  of 
the  citie  to  be  broken  neere  unto  Coleman  Street,  and 
there  builded  a  posterne  now  called  Moorgate^  upon  the 
Mooreside,  where  was  never  gate  before.  This  gate  he 
made  for  ease  of  the  citizens,  that  way  to  passe  upon 
cawseys  into  the  Field  for  their  recreation."  ^  The  fields 
in  question  were  at  that  time  a  marsh,  and  though  some 
fifty  years  later  "  dikes  and  bridges  "  were  made,  it  was 
many  years  before  the  whole  moor  was  drained.  The 
task  at  one  time  seemed  so  difficult  that  the  chronicler 
Stowe,  in  1598,  feared  that  even  if  the  earth  was  raised 
until  it  was  level  with  the  city  walls  it  would  be  "but 
little  dryer,"  such  was  the  "  moorish "  nature  of  the 
ground.  Moorfields  was  the  scene  of  many  curious 
dramas  during  its  history  It  was  the  great  place  for 
displays,  sham  fights,  and  sports  of  the  citizens.  Pepys 
notes  in  his  Diary,  July  26,  1664,  that  there  was  much 
discourse  about  "the  fray  yesterday  in  Moorfields,  how 
the  butchers  at  first  did  beat  the  weavers  (between  whom 
there  hath  been  ever  an  old  competition  for  mastery), 
but  at  last  the  weavers  rallied  and  beat  them."  Such 
scenes  were  very  frequent,  and  Moorfields  for  generations 

^  Stowe,  "  Survey  of  London." 


12      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

was  the  theatre  of  such  contests.  During  the  time  of 
the  Great  Fire,  numbers  of  homeless  people  camped  out 
there,  passing  days  of  discomfort  and  anxiety  about  their 
few  remaining  household  goods.  Pepys  in  his  casual 
way  alludes  to  them  :  "  5th  September,  ..."  Into  Moore- 
fields  (our  feet  ready  to  burn,  walking  through  the  town 
among  hot  coles),  and  find  that  full  of  people,  and  poor 
wretches  carrying  their  goods  there,  and  everybody 
keeping  his  goods  together  by  themselves  (and  a  great 
blessing  it  is  to  them  that  it  is  fair  weather  for  them  to 
keep  abroad  night  and  day) ;  drunk  there  and  paid 
twopence  for  a  plain  penny  loaf."  The  *'  trained  bands" 
used  Moorfields  as  their  exercise  ground,  and  no  doubt 
the  prototype  of  John  Gilpin  disported  himself  there. 
As  the  fields  were  drained  after  1527  they  became  more 
and  more  the  favourite  resort  of  citizens  of  all  ranks. 
Laid  out  more  as  a  public  garden  in  1606,  they  con- 
tinued the  chief  open  space  of  the  city  until  a  few 
generations  ago. 

The  garden  of  the  Drapers'  Company  was  another 
of  the  lungs  of  the  City,  and  the  disappearance  of  the 
great  part  of  it,  also  within  recent  years,  is  much  to  be 
regretted.  This  land  was  purchased  by  the  Company 
from  Henry  VIII.  after  the  garden  had  been  made  by 
Thomas  Cromwell,  Earl  of  Essex,  and  forfeited  on  his 
attainder.  His  method  of  increasing  his  garden  was 
simple  enough.  He  appears  to  have  taken  what  he 
wanted  from  the  citizens  adjoining,  and  his  all-powerful 
position  at  the  time  left  them  without  redress.  Stowe 
describes  the  way  this  land  was  filched  away.  "  This 
house  being  finished,  and  having  some  reasonable  plot 
of  ground  left  for  a  garden,  hee  caused  the  pales  of  the 
gardens  adjoining  to  the  north  part  thereof,  on  a  sudden 


INTRODUCTORY  13 

to  be  taken  doune,  22  foot  to  be  measured  forth  right 
into  the  north  of  every  man*s  ground,  a  line  then  to 
be  drawn,  a  trench  to  be  cast,  a  foundation  laid,  and  an 
high  bricke  wall  to  be  builded.  My  Father  had  a  garden 
there,  and  there  was  a  house  standing  close  to  his  south 
pale  ;  this  house  they  loosed  from  the  ground,  and  bare 
upon  Rowlers  into  my  Father's  garden  22  foot  ere  my 
Father  heard  thereof.  .  .  .  No  man  durst  goe  to  argue 
the  matter,  but  each  man  lost  his  Land." 

It  is  difficult  to  estimate  whether  the  charitable  muni- 
ficence of  the  Company  is  altogether  as  great  a  public 
benefit,  from  a  health  point  of  view,  as  retaining  some 
of  the  garden  for  public  use  would  have  been.  Men  are 
naturally  so  conservative,  that,  because  they  have  been 
content  to  talk  and  do  business,  and  even  search  for  a 
breath  of  air,  in  the  crowded  streets  on  the  hottest 
summer  days,  it  has  probably  never  occurred  to  them 
that  a  few  minutes  on  a  seat  under  shady  trees  would 
have  "refreshed  their  spirits,"  and  the  addition  of 
better  air  improved  their  brain  powers  more  effectually. 
The  idea  of  a  garden  city  is  such  a  new  one  that  it 
is  not  fair  to  judge  by  such  standards.  Distances  are 
now  much  reduced  by  electricity  above  and  below 
ground,  so  that  the  necessity  of  crowding  business 
houses  together  to  save  time  is  not  so  all-important. 
When  the  City  gardens  became  built  over,  no  doubt  the 
newer  and  more  sanitary  conditions  were  felt  amply  to 
compensate  for  the  loss  of  oxygen  given  off  by  the 
growing  plants,  and  the  preservation  of  air  spaces  in  the 
midst  of  crowded  centres  had  not  occurred  to  men's 
minds. 

London  four  or  five  hundred  years  ago  must  indeed 
have  needed  its  gardens.     The  squalor  and  dirt  of  its 


14      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

cramped  streets,  the  noisy  clamour,  the  rough  and  un- 
couth manners,  are  unpleasing  to  realise.  The  contrast 
of  the  little  walled  gardens,  where  the  women  could  sit, 
and  the  busy  men  find  a  little  quiet  from  the  noise 
outside,  must  indeed  have  been  precious.  The  pro- 
fession of  a  gardener,  however,  did  not  seem  to  soften 
their  behaviour,  for  some  of  the  worst  offenders  were 
gardeners.  So  serious  did  the  "  scurrility,  clamour,  and 
nuisance  of  the  gardeners  and  their  servants,"  who  sold 
their  fruit  and  vegetables  in  the  market,  become,  that 
they  disturbed  the  Austin  Friars  at  their  prayers  in  the 
church  hard  by,  and  caused  so  much  annoyance  to  the 
people  living  near,  that  in  1345  a  petition,  to  have  these 
'*  gardeners  of  the  earls,  barons,  bishops,  and  citizens  " 
removed  to  another  part  of  the  town,  was  presented  to 
the  Lord  Mayor.  Later  on,  gardening  operations  in  the 
City  and  for  six  miles  round  were  restricted  to  freemen 
and  apprentices  of  the  Gardeners'  Company,  and  the  sale 
of  vegetables  was  almost  exclusively  in  their  hands.  Their 
guild  had  power  to  seize  and  destroy  all  bad  plants,  or 
those  exposed  for  sale  by  unlicensed  persons.  The 
Gardeners'  Company,  incorporated  in  1605,  had  a  second 
charter  in  16 16,  and  a  confirmation  of  their  rights  in 
1635,  and  it  still  remains  one  of  the  City  companies. 
All  the  smaller  householders,  even  in  the  crowded 
parts,  continued  to  enjoy  their  little  gardens  for  many 
centuries.  Even  after  the  spoliation  of  the  monasteries, 
the  houses  rebuilt  on  their  sites  had  their  little  en- 
closures ;  and  large  houses  such  as  Sir  William  Pawlet's, 
on  the  ground  of  the  Augustine  monastery,  or  later  on 
Sir  Christopher  Hatton's  on  Ely  Place,  had  their  gardens 
around  them.  Even  now,  in  the  heart  of  London,  a  small 
row  of  shabby  old  houses  survives,  each  with  a  small  garden 


INTRODUCTORY  15 

attached  to  it.  These  are  called  Nevill  Court,  from  the 
site  having  been  within  the  precincts  owned  by  Ralph 
Nevill,  Bishop  of  Chichester,  Chancellor  in  the  time  of 
Henry  III.,  who  built  a  great  palace  near  here.  One  of 
the  row  belongs  to  the  Moravian  Mission,  or  United 
Brothers,  a  sect  who  trace  their  origin  to  John  Huss. 
They  settled  in  this  house  in  1737.  This  old-world 
corner  opens  out  of  Fetter  Lane.  A  small  wooden 
paling  separates  the  minute  strips  of  blackened  garden 
from  a  narrow  paved  pathway.  There  were  many  such 
gardens  in  this  locality  less  than  a  century  ago.  Charles 
Lamb,  when  aged  six,  went  to  school  to  a  Mr.  Bird  in 
Bond  Stables,  off  Fetter  Lane,  now  vanished  ;  and,  re- 
turning to  the  spot  in  1825,  he  recalled  the  early  asso- 
ciations :  "  The  school-room  stands  where  it  did,  looking 
into  a  discoloured,  dingy  garden.  .  .  .  Oh,  how  I  re- 
member .  .  .  the  truant  looks  side-long  to  the  garden, 
which  seemed  a  mockery  of  our  imprisonment."  Would 
that  some  antiquarian  millionaire — if  such  a  combination 
exists ! — might  take  into  his  head  to  preserve  Nevill 
Court,  to  restore  the  houses  and  renovate  the  gardens, 
and  preserve  this  relic  of  Old  London,  to  give  future 
generations  some  idea  of  what  the  smaller  dwelling- 
houses  in  the  old  city  were  like.  In  most  districts  these 
little  gardens  were  the  usual  appendage  to  dwelling- 
houses.  Pepys,  living  in  Seething  Lane,  often  mentions 
his  garden.  It  was  there  he  sat  with  his  wife  and  taught 
her  maid  to  smg  ;  it  was  there  he  watched  the  flames 
spreading  over  the  town  at  the  time  of  the  Great  Fire  ; 
and  in  it  his  money  was  buried  during  the  scare  of  the 
Dutch  invasion.  So  carelessly,  indeed,  was  the  money 
hidden  that  100  gold  pieces  were  lost,  but  eventually 
most  of  them  recovered  by  sweeping  the  grass  and  sifting 


1 6      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

the  soil.  The  natural  way  in  which  Pepys  mentions  how 
other  people — Sir  W.  Batten  and  Mrs.  Turner — during 
the  Fire  buried  in  their  city  gardens  their  wine  and 
other  goods  they  could  not  send  to  the  country,  that 
is,  Bethnal  Green,  only  shows  how  general  these  little 
plots  were. 

Gerard,  that  delightful  old  herbalist  and  gardener  to 
Lord  Burghley,  in  Elizabeth's  reign,  had  his  own  garden  in 
Holborn.  In  it  flourished  no  less  than  some  972  varieties 
of  plants,  of  which  he  published  a  catalogue  in  1596. 
His  friend  and  fellow-botanist,  L'Obel,  whose  name  is 
best  remembered  by  the  familiar  genus  Lobelia,  testified 
that  he  had  seen  all  the  plants  on  the  list  actually  growing 
there.  The  great  faith  and  skill  with  which  these  old 
gardeners  attempted  to  grow  in  London  all  the  newly- 
acquired  floral  treasures,  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  is 
truly  touching.  To  make  them  "  denizons  of  our 
London  gardens "  was  Gerard's  delight.  And  this 
worthy  ambition  was  shared  by  L'Obel,  who  looked  after 
Lord  Zouche's  garden  in  Hackney  ;  by  John  Parkinson, 
author  of  the  delightful  work  on  gardening  ;  and  later 
on,  the  mantle  descended  to  the  Tradescants,  who  had 
their  museum  (the  nucleus  of  the  Ashmolean)  or  "  Ark  " 
and  garden  in  Lambeth ;  by  Sir  John  Sloane,  who 
established  the  Physic  Garden  in  Chelsea,  and  numerous 
others.  It  is  curious  to  think  how  many  of  the  plants 
now  familiar  everywhere  made  their  first  appearance  in 
London.  They  were  not  reared  elsewhere  and  brought  to 
the  large  shows  which  are  arranged  in  the  metropolis  to 
exhibit  novelties  to  the  public,  but  really  London-grown. 
They  were  foreign  importations,  little  seeds  or  bulbs, 
sent  home  to  the  merchants  trading  with  the  Levant, 
or  brought  back  by  enterprising  explorers  from  the  New 


INTRODUCTORY  17 

World  and  carefully  nurtured  in  the  London  gardens, 
that    the    citizens    "  set    such    store    by."      There   were 
several  of  these  "worshipful  gentlemen"  to  whom  the 
introduction    of   flowers    is  due,   and    of  many  a  plant 
Gerard   could    say    with    pride,   they   "  are  strangers   to 
England,  notwithstanding  I  have  them  in  my  garden." 
Most  plants  were  grown  for  use,  but  others  "we  have 
them,"   says    Gerard,    "  in    our    London    gardens   rather 
more   for  toyes   of  pleasure   than  any  vertues   they   are 
possessed  with."     Some  of  the  first  potatoes  introduced 
were  grown  in  London.     Gerard  had  those  in  his  garden 
direct  from  Virginia,  and  prized  them  as  "  a  meat  for 
pleasure."     Jerusalem  artichokes  were  brought  to  London 
by  him,  and  grown  there  in  early  days  (16 17).     Parkin- 
son also  had  them,  calling  them  "  Potatos  of  Canada." 
Bananas  were   first   seen   in   England   in    Johnson's   the 
herbalist's  shop  in  Snow  Hill.     At  a  much  later  date — 
early  in  last  century — the  fuchsia  was  made  known  for 
the  first  time  to  Lee,  a  celebrated  gardener,  who  saw  a 
pot  of  this  attractive  plant  in  the  window  of  a  house  in 
Wapping,  where  a  sailor  had  brought  it  as  a  present  to 
his  wife.     So  attached  to  it  was  she,  that  she  only  parted 
with  it  when  a  sum  of  eight  guineas  was  offered,  besides 
two  of  the  young  rooted  cuttings.     London  can  claim 
so    many    flowers,    it    would    be    tedious    to    enumerate 
them  all.     The  first  cedars  in  this  country  grew  in  the 
Chelsea   Physic  Garden,    some    of  the    first   orchids   at 
Loddige's  Garden   in  Hackney,  and   many  things  have 
emanated    from     Veitch's    Nursery,    or    the    Botanical 
Gardens  in   Regent's   Park,   or  the  gardens  which   used 
to  belong  to  the  Royal  Horticultural  Society  in  South 
Kensington.     The  chrysanthemum  in  early  days  flourished 
in  Stoke  Newington,  and  one  of  the  very  first  results  of 

B 


1 8       LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

cross-fertilisation,  which  now  forms  the  chief  part  of 
scientific  garden  work,  was  accomplished  by  Fairchild,  a 
famous  nurseryman  at  Hoxton,  who  died  in  1730. 

This  same  Thomas  Fairchild  left  a  bequest  for  a 
sermon,  to  be  preached  annually  on  Whit  Tuesday,  at  St. 
Leonard's,  Shoreditch,  on  "  the  Wonderful  Works  of  God 
in  the  Creation,"  which  is  still  delivered,  often  by  most 
excellent  preachers,  but  to  a  sadly  small  and  unapprecia- 
tive  congregation.  Every  opportunity  ought  to  be  taken 
to  awaken  the  interest  in  these  wonders  of  creation  in 
the  vegetable  kingdom,  and  so  much  might  be  done  in 
London  Parks.  They  are  too  frequently  merely  places 
of  recreation,  and  until  recently  but  little  has  been 
attempted  to  arouse  enthusiasm  for  the  beauties  of 
nature,  and  to  make  them  instructive  as  well  as  attractive. 
Even  in  the  crowded  heart  of  London  a  great  deal  could 
be  effected,  and  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  feel  that  attention 
is  being  drawn  to  the  subject  and  an  effort  being  made  in 
the  right  direction.  In  the  summer  of  1906  a  "  Country 
in  Town  Exhibition "  was  held  in  Whitechapel.  This 
novel  idea  was  so  successful,  and  met  with  such  apprecia- 
tion, that  33,250  people  visited  the  exhibition  during 
the  fortnight  it  was  open,  besides  the  hundreds  that 
collected  to  see  H.R.H.  Princess  Christian  perform  the 
opening  ceremony.  The  available  space  of  the  White- 
chapel Art  Gallery  was  filled  with  plants  that  would 
thrive  in  London ;  the  Office  of  Works  arranged  a 
demonstration  of  potting ;  bees  at  work,  aquaria,  speci- 
mens dried  by  children  or  drawn  in  the  schools,  growing 
specimens  of  British  plants,  such  as  the  dainty  bee-orchis, 
plants  and  window  boxes  grown  in  the  district,  and  such- 
like, made  up  the  exhibits.  Lectures  were  organised  on 
plant   life   and    nature   in    London    which    were   largely 


INTRODUCTORY  19 

attended.  A  series  of  drawings  and  plans  of  the  Mile 
End  Road  and  Shadwell,  as  they  are,  and  as  they  might 
be,  were  prepared,  and  the  cost  of  such  transformations 
was  worked  out.  These  were  exhibited  in  the  hopes  of 
awakening  the  interest  of  the  Corporation  who  owns  the 
site  of  the  disused  market  in  Shadwell,  and  of  causing 
more  to  be  done  in  the  Mile  End  Road.  It  appears  that 
with  a  comparatively  small  expenditure  and  ultimate  loss, 
these  plans  could  be  realised,  and  the  physical  and  moral 
conditions  of  the  whole  neighbourhood  improved. 

Every  year  it  is  further  to  get  into  the  country 
from  the  centres  of  population,  and  the  necessity  of 
improving  existing  open  spaces  becomes  all  the  greater. 
By  improving  it  is  not  meant  to  suggest  that  what  are 
sometimes  called  improvements  should  be  carried  out ; 
grander  band-stands,  handsome  railings,  more  asphalt 
paths  or  stiff  concrete  ponds.  No,  it  is  only  more 
intelligent  planting,  grouping  for  artistic  effect,  and 
arranging  to  demonstrate  the  wonders  of  nature  in 
spaces  already  in  existence,  and  to  suggest  what  could 
be  done  to  cheer  and  brighten  the  dark  spots  of  the 
city. 

The  country  round  London  has  always  been  a  good 
district  for  wild  flowers ;  the  varied  soils,  aspects,  and 
levels  all  go  to  make  it  a  propitious  spot  for  botanising. 
Many  places  now  covered  with  streets  were  a  few  genera- 
tions ago  a  mass  of  wild  flowers.  The  older  herbalists — 
Gerard,  Johnson,  and  their  friends — used  to  search  the 
neighbourhood  of  London  for  floral  treasures,  and  inci- 
dentally in  their  works  the  names  of  these  friends,  such 
as  Mr.  James  Clarke  and  Mr.  Thomas  Smith,  "  Apothe- 
caries of  London,"  and  their  "search  for  rare  plants" 
are  mentioned.     Gerard   was   constantly   on  the   watch, 


20      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

and  records  plants  seen  in  the  quaintest  places,  such  as 
the  water-radish,  which  he  says  grew  "  in  the  joints  or 
chincks  amongst  mortar  of  a  stone  wall  that  bordereth 
upon  the^river  Thames  by  the  Savoy  in  London,  which 
yee   cannot   finde   but    when   the   tide   is    much    spent." 
Pennyroyal  "  was  found   on  the   common   near  London 
called  Miles  ende,"  "  from  whence  poore  women  bring 
plentie  to  sell  in  London  markets."     The  rare  adders- 
tongue  and  great  wild  valerian  grew  in  damp  meadows, 
the   fields    abounded   with    all   the   more   common  wild 
flowers,    and    such    choice    things    as    the    pretty    little 
*'  ladies'   tresses,"  grew   on    the   common   near  Stepney, 
while  butcher's  broom,  cow  wheat,  golden  rod,  butterfly 
orchis,  lilies  of  the  valley  and  royal  fern,  wortleberries  and 
bilberries  covered  the  heaths  and  woods  of  Hampstead  and 
Highgate.     Many  another  flower  is  recorded  by  Gerard, 
who   must   have   had   a   keen   and   observant   eye   which 
could  spot  a  rare  water-plant  in  a  ditch  while  attending 
an  execution  at  Tyburn  !  yet  he  meekly  excuses  his  want 
of  knowledge   of  where    a   particular    hawkweed   grew, 
saying,  "  I  meane,  God  willing,  better  to  observe  heerafter, 
as  oportunitie  shall  serve  me."      That  power  of  observa- 
tion is  a  gift  to  be  fostered  and  encouraged,  and  were 
that  achieved  by  education  in  Council  Schools,  a  great 
success  would  have  been  scored,  and  probably  it  would 
be  more  fruitful  in  the  child's  after  life  than  the  scattered 
crumbs  from  countless  subjects  with  which  the  brain  is 
bewildered.      The  wild   flowers    could    still    be    enticed 
within  the  County  of  London,  and  species,  which  used 
to  make  their  homes  within  its  area,  might  be  induced 
at  least  to  visit  some  corners  of  its  parks.     The  more 
dingy  the  homes  of  children  are,  the  more  necessary  it 
must  be  to  bring  what  is  simple,  pure,  and  elevating  to 


INTRODUCTORY  21 

their  minds,  and  modern  systems  of  teaching  are  realising 
this.  If  public  gardens  can  be  brought  to  lend  their  aid 
in  the  actual  training,  as  well  as  being  a  playground, 
they  will  serve  a  twofold  purpose.  An  old  writer 
quaintly  puts  this  influence  of  plant  life.  "  Flowers 
through  their  beautie,  varietie  of  colour  and  exquisite 
forme,  do  bring  to  a  liberall  and  gentle  manly  mind, 
the  remembrance  of  honestie,  comelinesse,  and  all  kindes 
of  vertues.  For  it  would  be  an  unseemly  and  filthie 
thing,  as  a  certain  wise  man  saith,  for  him  that  doth  looke 
upon  and  handle  faire  and  beautifuU  things,  and  who  fre- 
quenteth  and  is  conversant  in  faire  and  beautifuU  places, 
to  have  his  mind  not  faire  but  filthie  and  deformed." 

It  is  not  possible  for  all  London  children  to  get  into 
the  country  now  that  it  is  further  away,  so  the  more 
of  nature,  as  well  as  true  artistic  gardening,  they  can  be 
shown  in  the  parks  the  better.  It  used  in  olden  days  to 
be  the  custom,  among  other  May  Day  revels,  to  go  out 
to  the  country  round  London  and  enjoy  the  early  spring 
as  the  Arabs  do  at  the  present  time,  when  they  have  the 
f6te  of  " Shem-en-Nazim,"  or  "Smelling  the  Spring." 
"  On  May  day  in  the  morning,  every  man,  except  im- 
pediment, would  walk  into  the  Sweet  Meddowes  and 
green  woods,  there  to  rejoyce  their  spirits  with  the 
beauty  and  Savour  of  sweet  Flowers,  and  with  the  har- 
liionie  of  Birdes,  praising  God  in  their  kinde."^  It 
would  surprise  many  people  to  learn  how  many  birds 
still  sing  their  praises  within  the  parks  of  London, 
although  the  meadows  and  other  delights  have  vanished. 
This  serves  to  encourage  the  optimist  in  believing  in 
the  future  possibilities  of  London  Parks. 

There  is  no  "  park  system "  in  England  as  in  the 
^  Stowe's  "  Survey  of  London." 


22      LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

United  States  of  America,  where  each  town  provides,  in 
addition  to  its  regular  lines  of  streets,  and  its  main 
thoroughfares  leading  straight  from  the  centre  to  the 
more  suburban  parts,  a  complete  system  of  parks.  The 
more  old-fashioned  town  of  Boston  was  behind  the  rest, 
although  it  contained  a  few  charming  public  gardens  in 
the  heart  of  the  town.  Of  late  years  large  tracts  of 
low-lying  waste  grounds  have  been  filled  up,  and  one 
piece  connected  with  another,  until  it,  too,  rejoices  in 
a  complete  "  park  system."  Chicago,  Pittsburgh,  and  all 
these  modern  towns  of  rapid  growth  possess  a  well- 
ordered  "  park  system."  The  conditions,  the  natural 
aspect  of  the  country,  and  the  climate  are  so  unlike  our 
own  that  no  comparison  is  fair.  Like  everything  else  in 
the  United  States,  they  are  on  a  large  scale,  and  while  there 
is  much  to  admire,  and  something  to  learn,  there  is  very 
little  in  the  points  in  which  they  differ  from  us  that 
could  be  imitated.  London  parks  and  open  spaces,  taken 
as  a  whole,  are  unrivalled.  The  history  and  associations 
which  cluster  round  each  and  all  of  them,  would  fill 
volumes  if  recorded  facts  were  adhered  to ;  and  if  the 
imagination  were  allowed  to  run  riot  within  the  range  of 
possibility,  there  would  be  no  limit.  Things  which  have 
grown  gradually  as  circumstances  changed  can  have  no 
system.  Their  variety  and  irregularity  is  their  charm, 
and  no  description  of  either  the  parks,  gardens,  or  open 
spaces  of  London  can  be  given  as  a  whole.  Each  has 
its  own  associations,  its  own  history,  and  to  glance  at 
some  of  London's  bright  spots  and  tell  their  stories  will 
be  the  endeavour  of  these  pages. 


CHAPTER    II 

HYDE    PARK 

The  Park  shone  brighter  than  the  siyes. 

Sing  tan-tara-rara-tantivee, 

With  jewels  and  gold,  and  Ladies^  O"^-*"' 

That  sparkled  and  cry* d  come  see  me  : 

Of  all  parts  of  England,  Hide  Park  hath  the  name, 

For  coaches  and  Horses  and  Persons  of  fame. 

It  looked  at  first  sight,  like  afield  full  ofjlame. 

Which  made  me  ride  up  tan-tfuee. 

— News  from  Hide  Park,  an  old  ballad,  c.  1670. 


N  writing  about  London  Parks  the 
obvious  starting-point  seems  to  be 
the  group  comprising  Hyde,  Green, 
and  St.  James's  Parks,  which  are  so 
intimately  connected  with  London 
life  to-day,  and  have  a  past  teem- 
ing with  interest.  What  changes 
some  of  those  elms  have  witnessed  ! 
Generation  after  generation  of  the  world  of  fashion  have 
passed  beneath  their  shades.  Dainty  ladies  with  powder 
and  patches  have  smiled  at  their  beaux,  perhaps  con- 
cealing aching  hearts  by  a  light  and  careless  gaiety. 
Stately  coaches  and  prancing  horsemen  have  passed 
along.  Crowds  of  enthusiasts  for  various  causes  have 
aired  their  grievances  on  the  green  turf.  Brilliant  re- 
views and  endless  parades  have  taken  place  on  the  wide 

open  spaces ;  games  and  races   have   amused   thousands 

23 


24      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

of  spectators.  In  still  earlier  times  there  was  many  a 
day's  good  sport  after  the  deer,  or  many  a  busy  hour's 
ploughing  the  abbey  lands  of  the  then  Manor  of  Hyde. 
Scene  after  scene  can  be  pictured  down  to  the  present 
time,  when,  after  centuries  of  change,  the  enjoyment  of 
these  Parks  remains  perhaps  one  of  the  most  treasured 
privileges  of  the  Londoner. 

In  tracing  the  history  of  their  various  phases,  the 
survival  of  many  features  is  as  remarkable  as  the  dis- 
appearance of  others.  The  present  limits  on  the  north 
and  east,  Bayswater  Road  and  Park  Lane,  have  suffered 
no  substantial  alteration  since  the  roads  were  known  as 
the  Via  Trimobantina  and  the  Watling  Street  in  Roman 
times.  The  Watling  Street  divided,  and  one  section 
followed  the  course  of  the  present  Oxford  Street  to  the 
City  ;  the  other,  passing  down  the  line  of  Park  Lane, 
crossed  St.  James's  Park,  and  so  to  the  ford  over  the 
Thames  at  Westminster.  The  Park  was  never  common 
or  waste  land,  but  must  have  been  cleared  and  cultivated 
in  very  early  times.  In  Domesday  Survey  the  Manor 
was  in  plough  and  pasture  land,  with  various  "  villains  " 
and  peasants  living  on  it.  The  Thames  was  the  southern 
boundary  of  the  Manor  of  *'Eia,"  which  was  divided 
into  three  parts,  one  being  Hyde,  the  site  of  the  existing 
Hyde  Park,  the  other  two  Ebury  and  Neate.  Al- 
though now  forgotten,  the  latter  name  was  familiar  for 
many  centuries.  When  owned  by  the  Abbots  of  West- 
minster, the  Manor  House  by  the  riverside  was  of  some 
importance,  and  John  of  Gaunt  stayed  there.  Famous 
nurseries  and  a  tea  garden,  "  the  Neate  houses,"  marked 
the  spot  in  the  eighteenth  century. 

Until  the  stormy  days  of  the  Reformation  these  lands 
remained    much    the   same.     Owned  by  the  Abbey   of 


HYDE    PARK  25 

Westminster,  they  were  probably  well  cultivated  by 
their  tenants,  and  doubtless  the  game  with  which  they 
abounded  from  early  times  afforded  the  Abbot  some 
pleasant  days'  sport  and  tasty  meals.  The  first  time 
any  of  the  Manor  became  part  of  the  royal  demesne, 
was  when  the  Abbot  Islip  exchanged  100  acres  of  what 
is  now  St.  James's  Park,  adjoining  the  royal  lands,  for 
Poughley  in  Berkshire,  with  Henry  VIII.  in  153 1-2. 
This  Abbot,  who  had  an  ingenious  device  to  represent 
his  name — a  human  eye  and  a  cutting  or  "  slip  "  of  a  tree 
— died  in  the  Manor  House  of  Neate  or  Neyte  the 
same  year.  He  gave  up  the  lands  from  Charing  Cross 
"  unto  the  Hospital  of  St.  James  in  the  fields "  (now 
St.  James's  Palace),  and  the  meadows  between  the 
Hospital  and  Westminster.  Five  years  later,  when  the 
upheaval  of  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries  was 
taking  place,  the  monks  of  Westminster  were  forced  to 
take  the  lands  of  the  Priory  of  Hurley — one  of  their  own 
cells  just  dissolved — in  exchange  for  the  rest  of  the  manor. 
Henry  VIII.,  who  loved  sport,  found  these  lands  first- 
rate  hunting-ground.  From  his  palace  at  Westminster, 
through  Hyde  Park,  right  away  to  Hampstead,  he  had 
an  almost  uninterrupted  stretch  of  country,  where  hares 
and  herons,  pheasants  and  partridges,  could  be  pursued 
and  preserved  "  for  his  own  disport  and  pastime." 
Hyde  Park  was  enclosed,  or  "  substancially  empayled," 
as  an  old  writer  states,  and  a  large  herd  of  deer  kept 
there,  and  various  proclamations  show  that  the  right 
of  sport  had  to  be  jealously  guarded. 

What  a  gay  scene  must  Hyde  Park  have  often  wit- 
nessed in  Elizabeth's  reign.  The  Queen,  when  not 
actually  joining  in  the  chase,  watched  the  proceedings 
from  the  hunting  pavilion,  or  "princelye  standes  therein," 


26      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

and  feasted  the  guests  in  the  banqueting-house.  There 
were  brilliantly  caparisoned  horses,  men  and  women  in 
costly  velvets  and  brocades,  stiff  frills,  plumed  hats  and 
embroidered  gloves.  Picture  the  cortege  entering  by  the 
old  lodge,  where  now  is  Hyde  Park  Corner,  the  honoured 
guest,  for  whom  the  day's  sport  was  inaugurated — such 
as  John  Casimir,  son  of  the  Elector  Palatine,  who  showed 
his  skill  by  killing  a  particular  deer  out  of  a  herd  of  300 
— surrounded  by  some  of  his  foreign  attendants,  and 
escorted  by  all  the  court  gallants  of  the  day. 

The  Park  must  then  have  been  as  wild  as  the  New 
or  Sherwood  Forests  of  to-day.  The  tall  trees,  with 
their  sturdy  stems,  were  then  untouched  by  smoky 
air,  the  sylvan  glades  and  pasture  lands  had  no  distant 
vistas  of  houses  and  chimneys  to  spoil  their  rural  aspect, 
while  far  off  the  pile  of  the  buildings  of  Westminster 
Abbey — without  the  conspicuous  towers,  which  were 
not  finished  till  17 14 — might  be  seen  rising  beyond  the 
swamps  and  fens  of  St.  James's  Park.  Hyde  Park  on 
a  May  evening  even  now  is  still  beautiful,  if  looked  at 
from  the  eastern  side  across  a  golden  mist,  against 
which  the  dark  trees  stand  up  mysteriously,  when  a 
glow  of  sunset  light  seems  to  transform  even  ragged 
little  Cockney  children  into  fairies.  It  wants  but  little 
imagination  to  see  that  same  golden  haze  peopled  with 
hunstmen,  and  to  hear  the  sound  of  the  horn  instead 
of  the  roar  of  carriages. 

The  next  scene  which  can  be  brought  vividly  before 
the  mind's  eye  is  very  different  from  the  last  pageant. 
These  are  troublous  times.  The  monarch  and  his 
courtiers  are  occupied  in  far  other  pursuits  than  hunt- 
ing deer.  Charles  I.  was  fighting  in  the  vain  endeavour 
to   keep  his   throne,  and   Londoners  were   preparing  to 


HYDE    PARK  27 

defend  the  city.  Hyde  Park  and  Green  Park  became 
the  theatre  of  warlike  operations.  Forts  were  raised 
and  trenches  were  dug.  Two  small  forts,  one  on  Con- 
stitution Hill  and  one  near  the  present  Mount  Street 
in  Hyde  Park,  were  made,  but  the  more  important  were 
those  on  the  present  sites  of  the  Marble  Arch  and  of 
Hamilton  Place.  The  energy  displayed  on  the  occasion 
is  described  by  Butler  in  "Hudibras,"  and  the  part  taken 
by  women  in  the  work.  Like  the  *'sans  culottes"  of 
the  French  Revolution,  they  helped  with  their  own 
hands. 

"  Women,  who  were  our  first  apostles, 
Without  whose  aid  w'  had  all  been  lost  else  ; 

March'd  rank  and  file,  with  drum  and  ensign, 

T'  entrench  the  city  for  defence  in ; 

Rais'd  rampires  with  their  own  soft  hands. 

To  put  the  enemy  to  stands  ; 

From  ladies  down  to  oyster-wenches 

Labour'd  like  pioneers  in  trenches, 

Fell  to  their  pickaxes  and  tools. 

And  helped  the  men  to  dig  like  moles." 

—Butler's  ''Hudibras.'" 

The  picture  of  their  sombre  garments,  neat-fitting 
caps,  and  severe  faces,  the  close-cropped  hair  and  stern 
looks  of  the  men,  working  with  business-like  determina- 
tion, stands  out  a  striking  contrast  to  the  gay  colours 
and  cheerful  looks  of  the  company  engaged  in  the  chase. 

The  darker  trees  and  sheltered  corners  of  Hyde  Park 
afforded  covert  for  the  wary  "  Roundhead  "  to  lie  in 
ambush  for  the  imprudent  Loyalist  carrying  letters  to  the 
King.  On  more  than  one  occasion  the  success  was  on  his 
side,  and  the  bearer  of  news  to  his  royal  master  was  way- 
laid, and  the  papers  secured.     The  culminating  scene  of 


28      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

this  period  must  have  been  when  Fairfax  and  the  Parlia- 
mentary army  marched  through  Hyde  Park  in  1647,  and 
were  met  by  the  solemn  procession  of  the  Mayor  and 
Sheriffs  of  the  City  of  London, 

Dismal  days  for  the  Parks  followed.  Although  the 
Parks  had  been  declared  the  property  of  the  Common- 
wealth, it  was  from  no  wish  to  use  them  for  sport  or 
recreation.  During  the  latter  years  of  Charles  the  First's 
reign  Hyde  Park  had  become  somewhat  of  a  fashionable 
resort.  People  came  to  enjoy  the  air  and  meet  their 
friends,  and  it  was  less  exclusively  reserved  for  hunting. 
Races  took  place,  both  foot  and  horse ;  crowds  collected 
to  witness  them,  and  ladies,  with  their  attendant  cavaliers, 
drove  there  in  coaches,  and  refreshed  themselves  at 
the  "Cake  House"  with  syllabubs.  This  latter  was 
the  favourite  drink,  made  of  milk  or  cream  whipped  up 
with  sugar  and  wine  or  cider.  But  the  Puritan  spirit, 
which  was  rapidly  asserting  itself,  soon  interfered  with 
such  harmless  amusements.  In  1645  the  Parks  were 
ordered  to  be  shut  on  the  Lord's  Day,  also  on  fast  and 
thanksgiving  days.  In  1649  the  Parks,  together  with 
Windsor,  Hampton  Court,  Greenwich,  and  Richmond, 
were  declared  to  be  the  property  of  the  Commonwealth, 
and  thrown  open  to  the  public.  But  this  did  not  lead  to 
greater  public  enjoyment  of  Hyde  Park.  Far  from  it, 
for  only  three  years  later  it  was  put  up  to  auction  in 
three  lots.  The  first  lot  was  the  part  bounded  on  one 
side  by  the  present  Bayswater  Road,  and  is  described 
as  well  wooded  ;  the  second,  the  Kensington  side,  was 
chiefly  pasture ;  the  third,  another  well-wooded  division, 
included  the  lodge  and  banqueting-house  and  the  Ring 
where  the  races  took  place.  This  part  was  valued  at 
more  than  double  the  two  others,  and  was  purchased  by 


HYDE    PARK  29 

Anthony  Dean,  a  ship-builder,  for  £^oio,  8s.  2d.     This 
business-like  gentleman  presumably  reserved  the  use  of 
the  timber  for  his  ships,  and  let  out  the  pasture.     His 
tenant  proceeded   to   make  as   much  as  he   could,  and 
levied  a  toll  on  all  carriages  coming  into  the  Park.     On 
some  occasions  he  extorted  2s.  6d.  from  each  coach.     In 
1653  John  Evelyn  in  his  diary  complains  on  April   11 
that  he  "went  to  take  the  aire  in  Hide  Park,  when  every 
coach  was  made  to  pay  a  shilling,  and  every  horse  six- 
pence, by  the  sordid  fellow  who  had  purchas'd  it  of  the 
State,  as  they  were  call'd."     Cromwell  himself  was  fond 
of  riding  in  the  Park,  and  crowds  thronged  him  as  he 
galloped  round  the  Ring.     More  than  one  plot  was  made 
against  the  life  of  Cromwell,  and  the  Park  was  considered 
a  likely  place  in  which  to  succeed.     On  one  occasion  the 
would-be  assassin  joined  the  crowd,  which  pursued  the 
Protector  during  his  ride,  ready,  if  at  any  moment  he 
galloped  beyond  the  people,  to  dash  at  him  with  a  fatal 
blow.     The  plotter  had  carefully  filed  the  Park  gate  off 
its  hinges  so  as  to  make  good  his  own  escape.     It  is  a 
curious  fact  that  Cromwell  more  nearly  met  his  death  in 
Hyde  Park  by  accident  than  by  design.      He  was  pre- 
sented with  some  fine  grey  Friesland  horses,  by  the  Duke 
of  Holstein,  and  insisted  on  driving  the  spirited  animals 
himself.     They  bolted,  he  was  thrown  from  the  box,  and 
his  pistol  went  off  in  his  pocket,  "  though  without  any 
hurt  to  himself"  ! 

The  Ring,  where  all  these  performances  took  place,  was 
situated  to  the  north-east  of  where  the  Humane  Society's 
house,  built  in  1834,  now  stands,  near  the  Serpentine. 
There  are  a  few  remains  of  very  large  elm  trees  still  to 
be  seen,  which  probably  shaded  some  of  the  company 
assembled  to  watch  the  coaches  driving  round  and  round 


30      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

the  Ring,  or  cheer  the  winner  of  a  hotly-contested  race. 
Even  during  the  sombre  days  of  the  Commonwealth  sports 
took  place  in  the  Park,  but  with  the  Restoration  it  became 
much  more  the  resort  of  all  the  fashionable  world  and  the 
scene  of  many  more  amusements.  The  parks  were  still 
in  those  days  for  the  Court  and  the  wealthy  or  well-to-do 
citizens  only.  Probably  to  many  of  the  rabble  and  poorer 
Londoners  the  nearest  view  obtained  of  Hyde  Park  would 
be  the  tall  trees  within  its  fence  or  wall,  which  formed  a 
background  to  the  revolting  but  most  engrossing  of 
popular  sights,  the  horrors  of  the  gallows  at  Tyburn. 
The  idea  of  giving  parks  as  recreation  grounds  for  the 
poor  is  such  a  novel  one  that  no  old  writer  would  think 
of  noticing  their  absence  in  an  age  when  bull-baiting  and 
cock  fights  were  their  highest  form  of  amusement. 

The  Ring  was  an  enclosure  with  a  railing  round  it 
and  a  wide  road.  It  is  described  as  "  a  ring  railed  in, 
round  w*^^  a  gravel  way,  yt  would  admitt  of  twelve  if 
not  more  rowes  of  Coaches,  w*^*"  the  Gentry  to  take  the 
aire  and  see  each  other  Comes  and  drives  round  and 
round  ;  one  row  going  Contrary  to  each  other  affords  a 
pleaseing  diversion." 

The  gay  companies  who  assembled  to  drive  round 
and  round  the  Ring,  or  watch  races,  sometimes  met  with 
unusual  excitement.  On  one  occasion  Hind,  a  famous 
highwayman,  for  a  wager  rode  into  the  Ring  and  robbed 
a  coach  of  a  bag  of  money.  He  was  hotly  pursued  across 
the  Park,  but  made  his  escape,  "riding  by  St.  James's," 
which  then,  and  until  a  much  later  date,  was  a  sanctuary, 
and  no  one  except  a  traitor  could  be  arrested  within  it. 
So  narrow  an  escape  from  justice  did  he  have  that  he  is 
said  to  have  exclaimed,  "  I  never  earned  ;^ioo  so  dear  in 
all  my  life  !  " 


HYDE    PARK  31 

Numberless  entries  in  Pepys'  Diary  describe  visits  to 
Hyde  Park.  His  drives  there  in  fine  and  wet  weather, 
the  company  he  met,  whether  his  wife  looked  well  or  was 
in  a  good  or  ill  temper,  and  the  latest  gossip  the  outing 
afforded,  are  all  noted.  Many  times  he  regrets  not  having 
a  coach  of  his  own,  and  does  not  conceal  the  feelings  of 
wounded  pride  it  occasioned.  Once  he  na'fvely  explains 
that  having  taken  his  wife  and  a  friend  to  the  Park 
"  in  a  hackney,"  and  they  not  in  smart  clothes,  he  "  was 
ashamed  to  go  into  the  tour  [Ring],  but  went  round  the 
Park,  and  so,  with  pleasure,  home."  His  delight  when 
he  possessed  a  coach  is  unbounded.  He  made  frequent 
visits  to  the  coach-builder,  and  watched  the  final  coat  of 
varnish  to  "  make  it  more  and  more  yellow,"  and  at  last 
on  May  Day,  1669,  he  describes  his  first  appearance  in 
his  own  carriage  :  "  At  noon  home  to  dinner,  and  there 
find  my  wife  extraordinary  fine  with  her  flowered  tabby 
gown  that  she  made  two  years  ago,  now  laced  exceeding 
pretty,  and  indeed  was  fine  all  over,  and  mighty  earnest 
to  go  ;  though  the  day  was  very  lowering  ;  and  she  would 
have  me  put  on  my  fine  suit,  which  I  did.  And  so  anon, 
we  went  alone  through  the  town  with  our  new  liveries 
of  serge  and  the  horses'  manes  and  tails  tied  with  red 
ribbons,  and  the  standards  gilt  with  varnish,  and  all 
clean,  and  green  reines,  that  people  did  mightily  look 
upon  us  ;  and  the  truth  is  I  did  not  see  any  coach  more 
pretty,  though  more  gay  than  ours,  all  that  day  .  .  .  the 
day  being  unpleasing  though  the  Park  full  of  Coaches, 
but  dusty,  and  windy,  and  cold,  and  now  and  then  a 
little  dribbling  of  rain  ;  and  what  made  it  worse,  there 
were  so  many  hackney  coaches  as  spoiled  the  sight  of  the 
gentlemen's,  and  so  we  had  little  pleasure.  But  here 
was  Mr.  Batelier  and  his  sister  in  a  borrowed  coach  by 


32   LONDON  PARKS  &    GARDENS 

themselves,  and  I  took  them  and  we  to  the  lodge  :  and  at 
the  door  did  give  them  a  syllabub  and  other  things,  cost 
me  12S.  and  pretty  merry." 

What  an  amusing  picture,  not  only  of  Hyde  Park  in 
1669  but  of  human  nature  of  all  time! — the  start,  the 
pride  and  delight  with  their  new  acquisition,  the  little 
annoyances,  the  marred  pleasures,  the  ungenerous  dislike 
of  the  less  fortunate  who  could  not  afford  coaches  of 
their  own,  whose  ranks  he  had  swelled  the  very  last  drive 
he  had  taken.  Then  the  little  kindness  and  the  refresh- 
ment, so  that  the  story  ends  merrily. 

The  "  Lodge  "  is  but  another  name  for  the  "  Cheese- 
cake House  "  or  "  Cake  House,"  or  as  it  was  sometimes 
called  from  the  proprietor,  the  Gunter  of  those  days, 
"  Price's  Lodge."  This  house,  which  was  a  picturesque 
feature,  stood  near  the  Ring,  on  the  site  of  the  present 
building  of  the  Humane  Society,  and  must  have  been 
the  scene  of  many  amusing  incidents  in  the  lives  of 
those  who  graced  the  Ring,  in  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries.  A  little  stream  ran  in  front  of 
it,  and  the  door  was  approached  over  planks.  White 
with  beams  of  timber,  latticed  windows,  and  gabled  roof, 
a  few  flowers  clustering  near,  with  the  water  flowing  by 
its  walls,  the  old  house  gave  a  special  charm  and  rural 
flavour  to  the  tarts  and  cheesecakes  and  syllabub  with 
which  the  company  regaled  themselves. 

The  gay  sights  and  sounds  in  Hyde  Park  were 
silenced  during  those  terrible  weeks,  when  the  Great 
Plague  spread  death  and  destruction  through  London. 
As  the  summer  advanced,  and  the  havoc  became  more 
and  more  appalling,  many  of  the  soldiers  quartered  in  the 
city,  were  marched  out  to  encamp  in  Hyde  Park.  At 
first   it    seemed    as    if   they   would    escape    the    deadly 


HYDE    PARK  33 

scourge,    but    the    men    were    not    accustomed    to    the 
rough  quarters,  and  soon  succumbed. 

"  Our  men  (ere  long)  began  to  droop  and  quail, 
Our  lodgings  cold,  and  some  not  us'd  thereto, 
Fell  sick,  and  dy'd,  and  made  us  more  adoe. 
At  length  the  Plague  amongst  us  'gan  to  spread, 
When  ev'ry  morning  some  were  found  stark  dead ; 
Down  to  another  field  the  sick  we  t'ane, 
But  few  went  down  that  e'er  came  up  again." 

Thus  all  through  the  autumn  of  that  terrible  year 
the  Park,  was  one  of  the  fields  of  battle  against  the 
relentless  foe.  The  contemporary  poet,  whose  lines 
have  been  quoted,  describes  the  return  of  the  few 
saddened  survivors  to  the  "  doleful  "  city.  They  had 
lingered  through  the  cold  and  wet  until  December,  and 
surely  the  Park  has  no  passage  in  its  history  more 
piteous  and  depressing  than  the  advent  of  those 
frightened  men  who  came  with  "  heavy  hearts,"  "  fear- 
ing the  Almighty's  arrows,"  only  to  be  overtaken  by  the 
terror  in  their  plague-stricken  camp. 

Hyde  Park  has  witnessed  other  gloomy  pictures  from 
time  to  time.  Although  the  colouring  of  fashion  and 
romance  has  endeavoured  to  make  these  incidents  less 
repulsive,  duels  cannot  be  otherwise  than  distressing  to 
the  modern  sense.  For  generations  Hyde  Park  was  a 
favourite  place  in  which  to  settle  affairs  of  honour. 
The  usual  spot  is  described  by  Fielding  in  "Amelia." 
The  combatants  walked  up  Constitution  Hill  and  into 
Hyde  Park  "  to  that  place  which  may  properly  be  called 
the  Field  of  Blood,  being  that  part  a  little  to  the  left  of 
the  Ring,  which  Heroes  have  chosen  for  the  scene  of  their 
exit  out  of  this  World."  One  of  the  most  famous  duels 
was  that  fought  between  Lord  Mohun  and  the  Duke  of 

c 


34      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Hamilton  on  November  15,  17 12,  which  resulted  in  the 
death  of  both  the  combatants — the  Duke,  whose  loss  was 
a  great  blow  to  the  Jacobite  cause  in  Scotland,  and  the 
Whig  opponent.  All  through  the  eighteenth  century 
Hyde  Park  was  frequently  the  place  in  which  disputes 
were  settled,  and  one  of  the  last  duels  recorded,  which 
resulted  in  the  death  of  Captain  Macnamara  (his 
antagonist,  Colonel  Montgomery,  being  tried  for  man- 
slaughter, but  acquitted),  although  fought  on  Primrose 
Hill,  originated  in  Hyde  Park.  The  cause  of  quarrel 
was  that  the  dogs  of  these  two  gentlemen  fought  while 
out  with  them  in  the  Park,  whereupon  the  respective 
masters  used  such  abusive  language  to  each  other  that 
the  affair  had  to  be  settled  by  a  duel. 

Military  displays,  for  which  Hyde  Park  is  still 
famous,  have  taken  place  there  from  early  times.  The 
works  of  defence  were  thrown  up,  and  Fairfax  and  the 
Parliamentary  army  arrived  there  in  the  times  of  civil  strife, 
but  soon  after  the  Restoration  Charles  II.  had  a  peaceful 
demonstration,  and  there  reviewed  his  Life  Guards. 
Again,  in  September  1668,  there  was  a  more  brilliant 
review,  when  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  took  command 
of  the  Life  Guards,  and  the  King  and  Duke  of  York 
were  both  present.  Pepys  was  there,  and  wrote,  "  It  was 
mighty  noble,  and  their  firing  mighty  fine,  and  the  Duke 
of  Monmouth  in  mighty  rich  clothes ;  but  the  well 
ordering  of  the  men  I  understand  not." 

When,  in  17 15,  the  fear  of  a  general  Jacobite  rising 
induced  the  Whigs  to  take  serious  precautions,  Hyde 
Park  became  a  camp  from  July  till  November.  During 
a  similar  scare  in  1722  troops  were  again  quartered  there, 
and  the  camp  became  the  centre  of  popular  attraction ; 
gaiety  and  frivolity  were   the  order  of  the   day,  rather 


HYDE    PARK  35 

than  business  or  watchfulness.  The  Park  was  also  used 
as  a  camp  for  six  regiments  of  militia  at  the  time  of  the 
Gordon  Riots  in  1780.  All  through  George  III.'s  long 
reign  reviews  were  frequent,  and  one  of  the  most  popular 
was  that  held  by  the  Prince  Regent  before  the  allied 
sovereigns,  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and  King  of  Prussia, 
in  June  18 14.  Bliicher  was  the  popular  hero  on  the 
occasion,  and  when  he  afterwards  appeared  in  the  Park 
he  was  so  mobbed  by  the  crowd,  enthusiastic  to  see 
something  of  "  Forwarts,"  as  he  was  familiarly  named, 
that  he  had  to  defend  himself  against  their  rough 
treatment. 

When  the  Park  was  again  in  the  King's  hands  after 
the  Restoration,  a  Keeper  was  once  more  appointed,  who 
was  responsible  for  its  maintenance.  From  the  time  of 
Henry  VIII.  various  well-known  people  had  filled  the 
office  of  Keeper,  The  first  in  Henry  VIII. 's  time  was 
George  Roper,  succeeded  in  1553  by  Francis  Nevill,  and 
in  1574  by  Henry  Carey,  first  Lord  Hunsdon,  while  in 
1607  Robert  Cecil,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  was  appointed,  and 
Sir  Walter  Cope  held  the  ofiice  conjointly  with  him  from 
1 6 10.  The  name  of  the  first  Keeper  after  the  Restora- 
tion, James  Hamilton,  is  well  remembered  by  the  site  of 
his  house  and  ground,  which  are  still  known  as  Hamilton 
Place  and  Gardens.  He  was  allowed  to  enclose  ^^  acres 
of  park,  and  to  use  it  as  an  orchard  on  the  condition  that 
he  sent  a  certain  quantity  of  the  cider  produced  from  it 
to  the  King.  In  his  time  a  brick  wall  was  built  round 
the  Park,  and  it  was  re-stocked  with  deer.  The  wall  was 
rebuilt  in  1726,  and  not  replaced  by  railings  until  a 
hundred  years  later.  These  iron  railings  were  pulled 
down  by  the  mob  in  1866,  after  which  the  present  ones 
were  set  up.     The  deer,  which  formerly  ranged  all  over 


36      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

the  Park,  were  in  course  of  time  confined,  to  a  small 
area  on  the  north-west  side,  called  Buckdean  Hill. 
They  were  kept  for  sport  during  the  first  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  the  last  time  royalty  took  part 
in  killing  deer  in  the  Park  was  probably  in  1768.  The 
exact  date  of  the  disappearance  of  all  the  deer  is  difficult 
to  ascertain.  They  are  remembered  by  some  who  saw 
them  towards  the  end  of  the  thirties,  but  by  1 840  or 
soon  after  they  were  done  away  with. 

The  roads  in  Hyde  Park  must  have  been  rather  like 
South  African  tracks  at  the  present  day,  and  driving  at 
night  was  not  free  from  danger  even  at  a  comparatively 
late  date.  Attacks  from  highwaymen  were  to  be  feared. 
Horace  Walpole  was  robbed  in  November  1749,  and  the 
pistol  shot  was  near  enough  to  stun  though  not  otherwise 
to  injure  him.  The  Duke  of  Grafton  had  his  collar  bone 
broken,  and  his  coachman  his  leg,  some  ten  years  earlier, 
when,  on  his  way  from  Kensington  to  "the  New  Gate  to 
make  some  visits  towards  Grosvenor  Square,  the  Chariot 
through  the  darkness  of  the  Night  was  overset  in  driving 
along  the  Road  and  "  fell  "  into  a  large  deep  pit." 

Soon  after  William  III.  purchased  Kensington  Palace 
from  the  Earl  of  Nottingham  in  1691,  he  commenced 
making  a  new  road  through  the  Park.  This  became 
known  as  the  King's  Road,  or  "  Route  du  Roi "  :  a  cor- 
ruption of  the  latter  is  Rotten  Row,  the  name  now  given 
to  King  William's  Drive.  In  the  eighteenth  century  it 
was  called  the  King's  Old  Road,  and  the  one  which 
George  II.  made  to  the  south  of  it  was  called  the  King's 
New  Road.  When  this  was  finished  in  1737,  it  was 
intended  to  turf  the  older  "  Rotten  Row,"  but  this 
plan  was  never  carried  out.  The  old  road  was  much 
thought  of  at  the  time   it  was  made,  and  the  lighting 


HYDE    PARK  37 

of  it  up  at  night  with  300  lamps  caused  wonder  to  all 
beholders. 

A  young  lady,  Celia  Fienncs,  describes  the  road  in 
her  diary  about  1695.  "  Y^  whole  length  of  this  parke 
there  is  a  high  Causey  of  a  good  breadth,  3  Coaches 
may  pass,  and  on  each  side  are  Rowes  of  posts  on  w'''' 
are  glasses — Cases  for  Lamps  w*^*"  are  Lighted  in  y* 
Evening  and  appeares  very  fine  as  well  as  safe  for  y' 
passenger.  This  is  only  a  private  roade  y*  King  had 
w"^*"  reaches  to  Kensington,  where  for  aire  our  Great 
King  W""-  bought  a  house  and  filled  it  for  a  Retirement 
w'*'  pretty  gardens." 

The  road  was  in  bad  repair  before  the  new  one  was 
in  good  order,  and  Lord  Hervey,  writing  in  1736,  says 
it  had  grown  "  so  infamously  bad  "  as  to  form  "  a  great 
impassable  gulf  of  mud "  between  London  and  Ken- 
sington Palace.  "  There  are  two  ways  through  the  Park, 
but  the  new  one  is  so  convex,  and  the  old  one  is  so 
concave,  that  by  this  extreme  of  faults  they  agree  in  the 
common  of  being,  like  the  high  road,  impassable." 

One  of  the  most  striking  features  of  Hyde  Park 
to-day  is  the  long  sheet  of  water  known  as  the  '*  Ser- 
pentine," but  this  was  a  comparatively  late  addition  to 
the  attractions  of  the  Park.  From  earliest  times  there 
was  water.  The  deer  came  down  to  drink  at  pools  sup- 
plied by  fresh  springs.  The  stream  of  the  West  Bourne 
flowed  across  the  Park  from  north  to  south,  leaving  it 
near  the  present  Albert  Gate.  Near  there  it  was  spanned 
by  a  bridge,  from  which  the  hamlet  of  Knightsbridge 
derived  its  name.  The  water  in  the  Park  was  used 
to  supply  the  West  End  of  London  as  houses  began  to 
be  built  further  from  the  City,  and  Chelsea  was  also 
supplied  from  it.     The  Dean  and  Chapter  of  Westminster 


38      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

had  a  right  to  the  use  of  the  water  from  the  springs  in 
the  Park,  and  the  history  of  their  privilege  is  recorded 
on  a  stone  which  stands  above  "  the  Dell  "  on  the  north- 
east of  the  bridge  across  the  end  of  the  Serpentine.  The 
inscription  states  that  a  supply  of  water  by  a  conduit  was 
granted  to  the  Abbey  of  Westminster  by  Edward  the 
Confessor,  and  the  further  history  of  the  lands,  which 
passed  into  Henry  VIII. 's  hands  at  a  time  when  all  church 
property  was  in  peril  of  seizure,  is  neatly  glossed  over  as 
the  "  manor  was  resumed  by  the  Crown  in  1536."  The 
use  of  the  springs,  however,  was  retained  by  the  Abbey, 
and  confirmed  to  them  by  a  charter  of  Elizabeth  in  1560. 
Later  on  the  privilege  was  withdrawn,  and  in  1663  the 
Chelsea  Waterworks  were  granted  the  use  of  all  the 
streams  and  springs  of  Hyde  Park.  They  made  in 
1725  a  reservoir  on  the  east  side  of  the  Park,  opposite 
Mount  Street.  The  sunk  garden,  with  the  Dolphin 
Fountain,  the  statue  in  Carrara  marble,  and  the  basin  of 
Sicilian  marble,  by  A.  Munro,  was  made  in  1861  on  the 
site  of  this  reservoir,  which  was  abandoned  two  years 
earlier.  It  has  been  stated  that  this  sunk  garden  was 
a  remnant  of  the  forts  of  Cromwell's  time,  one  small 
one  having  been  near  here,  but  the  history  of  the  Chelsea 
Waterworks  reservoir  must  have  been  unknown  to  those 
who  believed  the  tradition.  It  contained  a  million  and  a 
half  gallons  of  water,  and  was  protected  by  a  wall  and 
railings,  as  suicides  were  once  said  to  have  been  frequent. 
When  the  Serpentine  was  made  by  Queen  Caroline,  con- 
siderable compensation  had  to  be  paid  to  the  Waterworks 
Company. 

In  this  age  of  experiments  in  plant  growing,  when 
American  writers  glow  with  enthusiasm  on  the  wonders 
of  the  "  New  Earth,"  and  when  science  has  transformed 


DOLPHIN  FOUNTAIN,  HYDE  PARK 


c  water  from  the  springs  in 

^  their  •  'ed 

..ve  ''the  a- 

:hc  end  of  t  The 

a  supply  of  water  by  a  conduit  was 

y  of  Westminster         '  '   the 

,    ...«-   further  history  of  l. -<      .,hich 

:':;nry  VIII. 's  hands  at  a  time  when  all  church 
n  peril  of  seizure,  is  neatly  glossed  over  as 
tj  '       '     Crown  in  1536."     The 

u-      .   ^.  '^'n^d  by  the  Abbey, 

.ind  confi.  izabeth  in  1560. 

Later  on  the  ■■.  the 


OuSlii   Ot 

Mian  v:  '  ■■     ,...^i^  -n   iuui  on  the 

.ite  of  t  I  was  abandoned   two  years 

ea'  een  stated  that  this  sunk  garden  was 

t   ot  the  forts  of  Cromwell's  time,  one  small 

.  t  ■-''  near  here,  but  the  history  of  the  Chelsea 

voir  must  have  been  unknown  r(^  ^^o'?e 

tradition.     It  containc 

r,  and  was  pro^  .liid 

ere  once  sai:'   •  ; uent. 

was  made  .  con- 

-.  had  to  bt.  vorks 


■    p-low  v.'i'-h  err  ■-.•  s» 

:^^A^  HQYH  .HIATVIUOH  YilH^dOa       .^^^med 


%  «#> 


^i-  ^^'TJ^ 


HYDE    PARK 


39 


the  dullest  operations  of  farming  and  gardening  into 
fields  for  enterprise  and  treasuries  of  possible  discoveries, 
it  is  humiliating  to  find  the  water  in  Hyde  Park  being 
used  for  like  experiments  as  long  ago  as  1691-92. 
Stephen  Switzer,  a  gardener,  who  would  have  been  de- 
scribed by  his  contemporaries  as  a  "  lover  of  ingenuities," 


Dolphin  Fountain  in  Hyde  Park 


was  fond  of  indulging  in  speculations,  and  studied  the 
effect  of  water  on  plants.  He  quotes  a  series  of  ex- 
periments made  by  Dr.  Woodward  on  growing  plants 
entirely  in  water,  or  with  certain  mixtures.  For  iifty-two 
days  during  the  summer  of  1692  he  carefully  watched 
some  plants  of  spearmint,  which  were  all  "the  most 
kindly,  fresh,  sprightly  Shoots  I  could  chuse,"  and  were 
set  in  water  previously  weighed.  For  this  trial  he  selected 
"  Hyde  Park  Conduit  water  " — one  pure,  another  had  an 


40      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

ounce  and  a  half  of  common  garden  earth  added  to  it,  a 
third  was  given  an  equal  quantity  of  garden  mould,  and 
a  fourth  was  kept  on  "  Hyde  Park  water  distilled."  The 
results  in  growth,  and  the  quantity  of  water  absorbed, 
were  carefully  noted  at  the  end  of  the  time. 

When  Queen  Caroline  conceived  the  idea  of  throw- 
ing the  ponds  in   Hyde  Park  into  one,  and   making  a 
sheet  of  water,  the  school  of  "  natural  "  or  "  landscape  " 
gardening  was  becoming  the  rage,     Bridgeman,  a  well- 
known   garden   designer,  who  had   charge   of  the   royal 
gardens,  has  the  credit  of  having  invented  the  "  ha-ha  " 
or  sunk  fence,  and  thus  led  the  way  for  merging  gardens 
into  parks.     Kent,  who  followed  him,  went  still  further. 
He,  Horace  Walpole  said,   "  leaped  the  fence,  and  saw 
that  all  Nature  was  a  garden."     The  fashions  in  garden 
design  soon  change,  and  the  work  of  a  former  generation 
is  quickly  obliterated.     William  III.  brought  with  him 
the  fashion  of  Dutch  gardening,  and  laid  out  Kensington 
Gardens  in  that  style.     Switzer,  writing  twenty-five  years 
later,  says  the  fault  of  the  Dutch  gardeners  was   "  the 
Pleasure   Gardens  being  stuffed   too  thick  with  Box"; 
they  "  used  it  to  a  fault,  especially  in  England,  where 
we  abound  in  so  much  good  Grass  and  Gravel."     London 
and   Wise,  very   famous    nursery   gardeners,  who   made 
considerable   changes  at  Hampton  Court,  and   laid    out 
the  grounds  of  half  the  country  seats  in  England,  had 
charge  of  Kensington   Palace  Gardens,  and   housed  the 
"  tender  greens "   during   the  winter   in   their   nurseries 
hard  by.     These  celebrated  Brompton  nurseries  were  so 
vast   that   the   Kensington    plants    took    up    "  but    little 
room  in  comparison  with"  those  belonging  to  the  firm. 
Queen   Mary  took   great   interest   in   the   new  gardens. 
"  This    active    Princess    lost    no    time,    but    was    either 


HYDE    PARK  41 

measuring,  directing,  or  ordering  her  Buildings,  but  in 
Gardening,  especially  Exoticks,  she  was  particularly 
skill'd,  and  allowed  Dr.  Pluknet  ^200  per  ann.  for  his 
Assistance  therein."  After  his  queen's  death  William  III. 
did  no  more  to  the  gardens,  but  they  were  completed  by 
Queen  Anne.  She  appointed  Wise  to  the  chief  care  of 
the  gardens,  and  when  in  17 12  rules  for  the  "better 
keeping  Hyde  Park  in  good  Order"  were  drawn  up, 
and  people  were  forbidden  to  leap  the  fences  or  ditches, 
or  to  ride  over  the  grass,  a  special  exception  was  made 
in  favour  of  Henry  Wise.  Switzer,  in  tracing  the  history 
of  gardening  to  his  day  (17 15),  praises  the  "late  pious 
Queen,  whose  love  to  Gardening  was  not  a  little,"  for 
"  Rooting  up  the  Box,  and  giving  an  English  Model 
to  the  old-made  Gardens  at  Kensington;  and  in  1704 
made  that  new  garden  behind  the  Green-House,  that 
is  esteemed  amongst  the  most  valuable  Pieces  of  Work 
that  has  been  done  any  where.  .  .  .  The  place  where 
that  beautiful  Hollow  now  is,  was  a  large  irregular 
Gravel-pit,  which,  according  to  several  Designs  given 
in,  was  to  have  been  filled,  but  that  Mr.  Wise  pre- 
vailed, and  has  given  it  that  surprizing  Model  it  now 
appears  in.  As  great  a  Piece  of  Work  as  that  whole 
Ground  is,  'twas  near  all  completed  in  one  Season,  (viz.) 
between  Michaelmas  and  Lady  Day,  which  demon- 
strates to  what  a  pitch  Gard'ning  is  arrived  within  these 
twenty  or  thirty  years." 

When  William  III.  purchased  Kensington  Palace, 
the  grounds  covered  less  than  thirty  acres.  Under 
the  management  of  Wise,  in  Queen  Anne's  time,  more 
was  added,  and  the  Orangery  was  built  in  1705.  Few 
people  know  the  charms  of  this  old  building,  which 
stands  to   the  north  of  the  original  garden,  and  which 


42      LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

future  alterations  may  once  more  bring  more  into 
sight.  As  the  taste  for  gardening  changed  from  the 
shut-in  gardens  of  the  Dutch  style  to  the  more  ex- 
tended places  of  Wise,  the  garden  grew  in  size.  Again, 
when  Bridgeman  was  gardener.  Queen  Caroline,  wife  of 
George  II.,  wished  to  emulate  the  splendour  of  Ver- 
sailles, and  300  acres  were  taken  from  Hyde  Park  to 
add  to  the  Palace  Garden.  Bridgeman  made  the  sunk 
fence  which  is  still  the  division  between  Kensington 
Gardens  and  the  Park ;  and  with  the  earth  which  was 
taken  out  a  mount  was  made,  on  which  a  summer-house 
was  erected.  This  stood  nearly  opposite  the  present  end 
of  Rotten  Row,  and  though  it  has  long  since  ceased  to 
exist,  the  gate  into  the  Gardens  is  still  known  as  the 
Mount  Gate.  Kent,  who  succeeded  Bridgeman,  con- 
tinued the  planting  of  the  avenues  and  laying  out  of  the 
Gardens,  and  the  greater  part  of  his  work  still  remains. 
The  Gardens  were  reduced  in  size  when  the  road  was 
made  from  Kensington  to  Bayswater,  and  the  houses 
along  it  built  about  seventy  years  ago,  and  the  exact 
size  is  now  274  acres.  Queen  Caroline  would  have 
liked  to  take  still  more  of  the  Parks  for  her  private  use ; 
but  when  she  hinted  as  much  to  Walpole,  and  asked  the 
cost,  he  voiced  public  opinion  when  he  replied,  "Three 
crowns." 

The  fashion  of  making  sheets  of  artificial  water 
with  curves  and  twists,  instead  of  a  straight,  canal-like 
shape,  was  just  taking  the  public  fancy,  when  Queen 
Caroline  began  the  work  of  converting  the  rather  marshy 
ponds  in  Hyde  Park  into  a  "  Serpentine  River."  The 
ponds  were  of  considerable  size,  and  in  James  I.'s  time 
there  were  as  many  as  eleven  large  and  small.  Celia 
Fiennes,  the  young  lady  who  kept  a  diary  in  the  time  of 


44      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

William  and  Mary,  which  has  been  already  quoted,  after 
describing  the  Ring,  says,  "  The  rest  of  the  park  is 
green,  and  full  of  deer  ;  there  are  large  ponds  with  fish 
and  fowle."  The  work  of  draining  the  ponds  and 
forming  a  river  was  begun  in  October  1730,  under  the 
direction  of  Charles  Withers,  Surveyor-General  of  the 
Woods  and  Forests.  The  cost  of  the  large  undertaking 
was  supposed  to  come  out  of  the  Queen's  privy  purse, 
and  it  was  not  until  after  her  death  that  it  was  found 
that  Walpole  had  supplemented  it  out  of  the  public 
funds.  The  West  Bourne  supplied  the  new  river  with 
sufficient  water  for  some  hundred  years,  after  which  new 
arrangements  had  to  be  made,  as  the  stream  had  become 
too  foul.  The  water  supply  now  comes  from  two 
sources — one  a  well  400  feet  deep  at  the  west  end  of 
the  Serpentine,  where  the  formal  fountains  and  basins 
were  made,  about  1861,  in  front  of  the  building  of  Italian 
design  covering  the  well.  The  sculptured  vases  and 
balustrade  with  sea-horses  are  by  John  Thomas.  The 
water  in  the  well  stands  172  feet  below  the  ground  level, 
and  the  depth  is  continually  increasing.  It  is  pumped 
up  to  the  "  Round  Pond,"  and  descends  by  gravity. 
The  second  supply  comes  from  a  well  28  feet  deep  in 
the  gravel  on  "  Duck  Island,"  in  St.  James's  Park.  The 
water,  which  is  19  feet  below  the  surface,  remains  con- 
stant, that  level  being  the  same  as  the  water-bearing 
stratum  of  the  Thames  valley  in  London.  It  is  pumped 
up  to  the  Serpentine,  and  returns  to  the  lake  in  St. 
James's  Park,  supplying  the  lake  in  the  gardens  of  Buck- 
ingham Palace  on  the  way.  The  deep  well  provides 
about  120,000  gallons,  and  the  shallow  about  100,000 
a  day.  The  "  Round  Pond  " — which,  by  the  way,  is 
not  round — affords  the  greatest  delight  to  the  owners. 


HYDE    PARK  45 

of  all  ages,  of  miniature  yachts  of  all  sizes.  There  are  the 
large  boats  with  skilful  masters,  which  sail  triumphantly 
across  the  placid  waters,  and  there  are  the  small  craft  that 
spend  days  on  the  weeds,  or  founder  amid  "waves  that  run 
inches  high,"  like  the  good  steamship  Puffin  in  Anstey's 
amusing  poem.  When  the  weeds  are  cut  twice  every 
summer,  many  pathetic  little  wrecks  are  raised  to  the  sur- 
face, perchance  to  be  restored  to  the  expectant  owners. 

Skating  was  an  amusement  in  Hyde  Park  even  before 
the  Serpentine  existed,  and  the  older  ponds  often  pre- 
sented a  gay  scene  in  winter,  although  it  was  on  the 
canal  in  St.  James's  Park  that  the  use  of  the  modern 
skate  is  first  recorded  in  Charles  II. 's  time. 

During  the  last  hundred  years  Hyde  Park  has 
frequently  been  disturbed  by  mobs  and  rioters,  until 
it  has  become  the  recognised  place  in  which  to  air 
popular  discontent  in  any  form,  or  to  ventilate  any 
grievance.  The  first  serious  riot  took  place  at  the 
funeral  of  Queen  Caroline,  in  1821.  To  avoid  any 
popular  demonstration  of  feeling,  it  was  arranged  that 
the  funeral  procession  should  not  pass  through  the  City. 
The  Queen  had  died  at  Brandenburgh  House,  and  was 
to  be  interred  at  Brunswick.  Instead  of  going  straight 
by  way  of  Knightsbridge  and  Piccadilly,  a  circuitous 
route  by  Kensington,  Bayswater,  Islington,  and  Mile 
End  was  planned.  On  reaching  Kensington  Church, 
the  mob  prevented  the  turn  towards  Bayswater  being 
taken.  Hyde  Park  was  thronged  with  an  excited  crowd, 
trying  to  force  the  escort  to  go  the  way  it  wished.  At 
Cumberland  Gate  quite  a  severe  encounter  took  place, 
in  which  the  Life  Guards  twice  charged  the  mob. 
Further  down  Oxford  Street  were  barricades,  and  to  avoid 
further  rioting  the  procession  eventually  had  to  take  the 


46      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

people's  route,   passing  quietly  down  to  the  Strand  and 
through  the  City. 

The  occasion  of  the  Reform  Bill  riot  in  1831,  when 
the   windows  were    smashed    in   Apsley  House,   is    well 
known,  and  from    1855   to   1866   Hyde  Park  witnessed 
many  turbulent  demonstrations.     The  first  occasion  was 
in  July  1855  against  Lord  Robert  Grosvenor's  "  Sunday 
Trading   Bill,"  when  some    150,000   people   assembled, 
and  various  scenes  of  disturbance  took  place.     More  or 
less  serious  riots  were  of  frequent  occurrence,  until  they 
culminated   in  the    Reform   League   riot   in  July   1866, 
when  the  railings  between  Marble  Arch  and  Grosvenor 
Gate   "  were   entirely  demolished,    and    the   flower-beds 
were  ruined."     The  flower-beds   had   not  been   long  in 
existence  when  they  were  wantonly  damaged  by  the  mob. 
The  idea  of  introducing  flowers  into  the  Park  began 
about  i860,  and  the  long  rows  of  beds  between  Stanhope 
Gate  and  Marble  Arch  were  made  about  that  time,  when 
Mr.  Cowper  Temple  was  First  Commissioner  of  Works. 
They  were  made  when  "  bedding  out "  was  at  the  height 
of  its  fashion,  when  the  one  idea  was  to  have  large,  glaring 
patches  of  bright  flowers  as  dazzling  as  possible,  or  minute 
and  intricate  patterns  carried  out  in  carpet  bedding.    Now 
this  plan  has  been  considerably  modified.    The  process  of 
alteration  has  been  slow,  and  the  diff^erences  in  some  cases 
subtle,   but    the    old    stiffiiess    and    crudeness   has    been 
banished  for  ever.     The  harmony  of  colours,  and  variety 
of  plants  used,  are  the  principal  features  in  the  present 
bedding   out.       It   seems  right    that   the    Royal    Parks 
should    lead    the    way    in    originality    and    beauty,    and 
undoubted    success    is    frequently    achieved,    although 
even  the  style  of  to-day  has  its  opponents.     The  chief- 
objection    from    the    more    practical    gardeners    is    the 


.  lo  tne  iDtriHu  ^na 

<rm  Bil 
icd   in  Aj'  wcii 

to  1866  H  ^ 

.mirations.     Tn> .._:i 

tist  Lord  Robert  Grosvenor's  **  Sunday 

hen  some    150,000  people  assembled, 

c-nes  of  dist     '  took  place.     More  or 

.  ;jts  were  of  :.^.^..../.  occurrence,  until  they 

in   the    Reform    L^3(tuc   riot   in  July   1866, 

\rch  and  Grosvenor 


Mr.  CowT- 

sghey  '  as  at  the  height 

^       rashion,  whea  the  one  idea  was  Lo  have  large,  glaring 
C5  v-uwS  of  bright  flowers  as  dazzling  as  possible,  or  minute 
Jhd  intricate  patterns  carried  out  in  carpet  bedding.    Now 
this  plan  has  been  considerably  modified.    The  process  of 
^  slow,  and  the  differences  in  some  .. 
Id    stiffness   and    c'"   '  "^  •""    '"^  ■ 
The  harmony  of 
principal  feat 
.i    out.  ms   right    ' 

hriv>i  ..:    lead    '-  m    or- - 

und    :'^'t?d    Si:  ,    frequ 

evt  to-day  has  le  chief 

objection    from    the    more    •  ers    is    the 


HYDE    PARK  47 

putting  out  of  comparatively  tender  plants  in  the 
summer  months,  when  the  same  general  effect  could  be 
got  with  a  less  expenditure  both  of  money  and  plants. 
But  on  the  other  hand  numbers  of  people  come  to  study 
the  beds,  note  the  combinations,  and  examine  the  use  of 
certain  plants  which  they  would  not  otherwise  have  the 
opportunity  of  testing.  The  public  who  enjoy  the  results, 
and  often  those  who  most  severely  criticise,  do  not  know 
the  system  on  which  the  gardening  is  carried  out.  Many 
are  even  ignorant  enough  to  suppose  that  the  whole 
bedding  out  is  contracted  for,  and  few  know  the  hidden 
recesses  of  Hyde  Park,  which  produces  everything  for  all 
the  display,  both  there  and  in  St.  James's  Park.  The 
old  place  in  which  all  necessary  plants  were  raised  was  a 
series  of  greenhouses  and  frames  in  front  of  Kensington 
Palace.  The  erection  of  these  pits  and  glass  houses  com- 
pletely destroyed  the  design  of  the  old  garden,  although 
even  now  the  slope  reveals  the  lines  of  the  old  terraces ; 
and  they  entirely  obscure  the  beauty  of  the  Orangery. 
A  few  years  ago  three  acres  in  the  centre  of  Hyde  Park 
were  taken,  on  which  to  form  fresh  nurseries.  Gradually 
better  ranges  have  been  built,  and  soon  the  old  unsightly 
frames  at  Kensington  will  disappear.  The  new  garden  is 
so  completely  hidden  that  few  have  discovered  its  where- 
abouts. The  ground  selected  lies  to  the  north-west  of 
the  Ranger's  Lodge.  There,  a  series  of  glass  houses  on 
the  most  approved  plan,  and  rows  of  frames,  have  been 
erected.  The  unemployed  have  found  work  by  excava- 
ting the  ground  to  the  depth  of  some  eight  feet,  and  the 
gravel  taken  out  has  made  the  wide  walk  across  the  Green 
Park  and  the  alterations  in  the  "Mall."  A  wall  and 
bank  of  shrubs  and  trees  so  completely  hides  even  the 
highest  house  in  which  the  palms — such  as  those  outside 


48      LONDON    PARKS    <^    GARDENS 

the  National  Gallery — are  stored,  that  it  is  quite  invisible 
from  the  outside.  There  are  storehouses  for  the  bulbs, 
and  nurseries  where  masses  of  wall-flowers,  delphiniums, 
and  all  the  hardier  bedding  plants,  and  those  for  the  her- 
baceous borders,  are  grown.  Of  late  years  the  number  of 
beds  in  the  Park  has  been  considerably  reduced,  without 
any  diminution  of  the  effect.  In  1903  as  many  as  ninety 
were  done  away  with  between  Grosvenor  Gate  and  Marble 
Arch.  There  is  now  a  single  row  of  long  beds  instead  of 
three  rows  with  round  ones  at  intervals.  But  even  after 
all  these  reductions  the  area  of  flower  beds  and  borders 
is  very  considerable,  as  the  following  table  will  show  : — 


Area  of  Flower 
Beds. 

Area  of  Flower 
Borders. 

Hyde  Park        .... 
Kensington  Gardens 
St.  James's  Park 
Queen    Victoria    Memorial    in 
front  of  Buckingham  Palace 

Sq.  Yds. 
1742 

345 
33 

j-          1270 

Sq.  Yds. 
2975 
3564 
2642 

Total          .         . 

3687 

9181 

An  event  of  historic  importance  which  took  place  in 
Hyde  Park  was  the  Great  Exhibition  of  1851.  Various 
sites,  such  as  Battersea,  Regent's  Park,  Somerset  House, 
and  Leicester  Square,  were  suggested,  and  the  one  chosen 
met  with  some  opposition,  but  finally  the  space  between 
Rotten  Row  and  Knightsbridge  Barracks  was  decided  on. 
Plans  were  submitted  for  competition,  and  though  245 
were  sent  in  not  one  satisfied  the  committee,  so,  assisted 
by  three  well-known  architects,  they  evolved  a  plan  of 
their  own.  This  was  to  be  carried  out  in  brick  ;  the 
labour  of  removing  it  after  the  Exhibition  would  have 


HYDE    PARK  49 

been  stupendous.  It  was  when  this  plan  was  under 
consideration  that  Paxton  showed  his  idea  for  the 
building  of  iron  and  glass  so  well  known  as  the  Crystal 
Palace.  It  was  1851  feet  long  and  408  wide,  with 
a  projection  on  the  north  936  feet  by  48,  and  the 
building  covered  about    19  acres. 

One  stipulation  was  made  before  the  design  was 
accepted,  and  that  was  that  three  great  elm  trees  grow- 
mg  on  the  site  should  not  be  removed,  but  included 
in  the  building.  To  eiFect  this,  some  alterations  were 
made,  and  the  trees  were  successfully  encased  in  this 
Crystal  Palace,  and  the  old  trunk  of  one  of  them  is 
still  standing  in  Hyde  Park.  There  is  a  railing  round 
it,  but  no  tablet  to  record  this  strange  chapter  in  its 
history.  Some  smaller  trees  were  cut  down,  which  led 
to  a  cartoon  in  Punch  and  lines  on  the  Prince  Consort, 
who  was  the  prime  mover  in  all  pertaining  to  the  Great 
Exhibition. 

"  Albert !   spare  those  trees, 

Mind  where  you  fix  your  show  ; 
For  mercy's  sake,  don't,  please, 
Go  spoiling  Rotten  Row." 

The  Exhibition  was  opened  by  the  Queen  on  May 
1st.  The  enthusiasm  it  created  in  all  sections  of  the 
population  has  known  no  parallel,  and  in  the  success 
and  excitement  the  few  small  elm  trees  were  soon  for- 
gotten by  the  delighted  people,  who  raised  cheers  and 
shouted — 

"  Huzza  for  the  Crystal  Palace, 
And  the  world's  great  National  Fair." 

Hyde  Park  never  saw  more  people  than  during  the 
time  it  was  open  from  the  ist  of  May  to  the  nth  of 
October,   as   6,063,986   persons  visited   the  Exhibition, 


so      LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

an  average  of  43,000  daily.  Its  success  was  pheno- 
menal also  from  a  financial  point  of  view,  as  after  all 
expenses  were  deducted  there  was  a  surplus  of  ;^  150,000, 
with  which  the  land  from  the  Park  to  South  Kensington 
was  purchased,  on  which  the  Albert  Hall  and  museums 
have  been  built. 

It  seems  to  have  been  the  complete  originality  of 
the  whole  structure  that  captivated  all  beholders.  In 
his  memoirs  the  eighth  Duke  of  Argyll  refers  to  the 
opening  as  the  most  beautiful  spectacle  he  had  ever 
seen.  "  Merely,"  he  writes,  "  as  a  spectacle  of  joy  and 
of  supreme  beauty,  the  opening  of  the  Great  Exhibition 
of  1 85  I  stands  in  my  memory  as  a  thing  unapproachable 
and  alone.  This  supreme  beauty  was  mainly  in  the 
building,  not  in  its  contents,  nor  even  in  the  brilliant 
and  happy  throng  that  filled  it.  The  sight  was  a  new 
sensation,  as  if  Fancy  had  been  suddenly  unveiled. 
Nothing  like  it  had  ever  been  seen  before — its  light- 
someness,  its  loftiness,  its  interminable  vistas,  its  aisles 
and  domes  of  shining  and  brilliant  colouring." 

It  was  with  the  recollection  of  this  world-famous 
Exhibition  fresh  in  men's  minds  that  the  site  for  the 
Albert  Memorial  was  chosen.  The  idea  conceived  by 
Sir  Gilbert  Scott  was  the  reproduction  on  a  large  scale 
of  a  mediaeval  shrine  or  reliquary.  When  it  was  erected 
an  alteration  was  made  in  some  of  the  avenues  in  Ken- 
sington Gardens,  so  as  to  bring  one  into  line  with  the 
Memorial.  A  fresh  avenue  of  elms  and  planes  straight 
to  the  monument  was  planted,  which  joined  into  the 
original  one,  and  a  few  trees  were  dotted  about  to  break 
the  old  line.  As  first  planned,  the  avenue  must  have 
commanded  a  view  of  Paddington  Church  steeple  in 
the  vista. 


HYDE    PARK 


51 


There  is  no  better  refutation  of  the  theory  that  only 
plane  trees  will  live  in  London,  than  an  examination  of 
the  trees  in  Hyde  Park  and  Kensington  Gardens.  An 
appendix  to  this  volume  gives  a  list  of  the  trees  and 
shrubs  which  have  been  planted  there,  and  notes  those 
which  are  not  in  existence,  having  proved  unsuitable 
to  London,  or  been  removed  from  some  other  cause. 
Many  people  will  doubtless  be  surprised  at  the  length 
of  the  list.  A  large  number  of  the  trees  are  really  fine 
specimens,  and  would  do  credit  to  any  park  in  the 
kingdom.  Take,  for  instance,  some  of  the  ash  trees. 
There  is  a  very  fine  group  not  very  far  from  the  Mount 
Gate  inside  Kensington  Gardens.  Two  specimens  with 
light  feathery  foliage,  Fraxinus  lentiscifolia  and  F.  excelsior 
angustifolia^  when  seen  like  lace  against  the  sky,  are  re- 
markably pretty  trees.  Not  far  from  them  stand  a 
good  tulip  tree  and  the  last  remaining  of  the  old  Scotch 
firs.  The  Ailanthus  Avenue  from  the  Serpentine  Bridge 
towards  Rotten  Row,  planted  in  1876,  is  looking  most 
prosperous.  There  are  a  few  magnificent  ancient  sweet 
chestnuts  above  the  bastion  near  the  Magazine.  The 
trees  planted  from  time  to  time  have  wisely  been  grouped 
together  according  to  species.  Near  the  Ranger's  Lodge, 
outside  the  new  frame-ground,  some  birches  grow  well, 
and  their  white  stems  are  washed  every  year.  The  col- 
lection of  pavias,  which  flower  delightfully  in  the  small 
three-cornered  enclosure  where  the  road  divides  at  the 
Magazine,  are  most  flourishing.  To  the  south-west  of 
the  fountains  at  the  end  of  the  Serpentine,  some  very 
good  Turkey  and  American  oaks  are  growing  into  large 
trees.  Several  really  old  thorns  are  dotted  about.  In 
a  walk  from  the  "  Round  Pond,"  by  the  stone  which 
marks   the   boundary   of  three    parishes,  towards    Bays- 


52   LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

water,  grand  specimens  of  oak,  ash,  lime,  elm,  sweet 
and  horse-chestnuts  are  met  with.  The  avenue  of 
horse-chestnuts  is  just  as  flourishing  as  those  of  planes 
or  elms.  In  fact  the  whole  Park  shows  how  well  trees 
will  succeed  if  sufficient  care  is  taken  of  them.  One 
feature  of  the  Park  in  old  days  was  the  Walnut  Avenue, 
which  grew  nearly  on  the  lines  of  the  present  trees 
between  Grosvenor  Gate  and  the  Achilles  Statue.  They 
were  decayed  and  were  cut  down  in  1811,  and  the  best 
of  the  wood  was  used  for  gunstocks  for  the  army.  It 
is  a  pity  no  walnut  avenue  was  planted  instead,  as  by 
now  it  would  have  been  a  fine  shady  walk.  The  old 
elms,  which  are  of  such  great  beauty  in  Hyde  Park, 
have,  alas  !  often  to  be  sacrificed  for  the  safety  of  pas- 
sers-by, so  that  the  recent  severe  lopping  was  necessary. 
Their  great  branches  are  the  first  to  fall  in  a  gale. 
Yet  when  one  has  to  be  removed  there  is  an  outcry, 
though  people  tamely  submit  to  a  whole  row  of  trees 
being  ruined  by  tram  lines  along  the  Embankment,  so 
inconsistent  is  public  opinion.  It  is  almost  incredible 
what  narrow  escapes  from  destruction  even  the  beauty 
of  Hyde  Park  has  had.  In  1884  a  Metropolitan  and 
Parks  Railway  Bill  was  before  Parliament,  which  actually 
proposed  to  cross  the  Park  by  tunnels  and  cuttings  which 
would  have  completely  disfigured  "The  Dell"  and  other 
parts  of  the  Park.  In  this  utilitarian  age  nothing  is 
sacred. 

The  Dell  had  not  been  ten  years  in  its  present  form 
when  the  proposal  was  made.  The  site  of  the  Dell  was 
a  receiving  lake,  about  200  yards  by  70,  which  had  been 
made  in  1734.  This  was  done  away  with  in  1844,  ^^^ 
the  overflow  of  the  Serpentine  allowed  to  pass  over 
the  artificial  rocks  which  still  remain.    It  was  enveloped 


HYDE    PARK  53 

in  a  dark  and  dirty  shrubbery,  the  haunt  of  all  the 
ruffians  and  the  worst  characters  who  frequented  the  Park 
at  night.  The  place  was  not  safe  to  pass  after  dark, 
neither  had  it  any  beauty  to  recommend  it.  It  was  in 
this  state  when  the  present  Lord  Redesdale  became 
Secretary  of  the  Office  of  Works  in  1874.  He  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  turning  it  into  a  subtropical  garden, 
designed  the  banks  of  the  little  stream,  and  introduced 
suitable  planting,  banishing  the  old  shrubs,  and  merely 
using  the  best  to  form  a  background  to  the  spireas, 
iris,  giant  coltsfoot,  osmundas,  day  lilies,  and  suchlike, 
which  adorned  the  water's  edge  in  front.  The  dark 
history  of  the  Dell  is  quite  forgotten,  and  watching  the 
ducks  and  rabbits  playing  about  this  pretty  spot  is  one 
of  the  chief  delights  of  Hyde  Park. 

The  monolith  which  stands  near  was  brought  from 
Liskeard  in  Cornwall  by  Mr.  Cowper  Temple,  when 
First  Commissioner  of  Works,  and  set  up  in  its  present 
place  as  a  drinking-fountain  in  1862.  In  1887  the 
water  was  cut  off  it,  the  railings  altered,  and  the  turf 
laid  round  it,  joining  it  on  to  the  rest  of  the  Dell. 
To  Lord  Redesdale  are  due  also  the  rhododendrons 
which  make  such  a  glorious  show  on  either  side  of 
Rotten  Row.  He  contracted  with  Messrs.  Anthony 
Waterer  for  a  yearly  supply,  as  they  only  look  their 
best  for  a  short  time  exposed  to  London  air.  In  his 
time,  too,  many  of  the  small  flower-beds  which  were 
dotted  about  without  much  rhyme  or  reason  were  done 
away  with,  and  the  borders  at  the  edge  of  the  shrubs 
substituted. 

The  latest  addition  to  Hyde  Park  is  the  fountain 
presented  by  Sir  Walter  Palmer  and  put  up  near  the 
end  of  the  '*  Row"  in  1906.     The  sculpture  and  design 


54      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

are  the  work  of  Countess  Feodore  Gleichen,  The  grace- 
ful figure  of  Artemis,  with  bow  and  arrow,  and  the  sup- 
porting cariatides,  are  of  bronze,  the  upper  basin  of 
Saravezza  marble,  and  the  lower  of  Tecovertino  stone. 
The  whole  is  most  light  and  elegant,  and  shows  up  well 
against  the  dark  trees. 

It  has  only  been  possible  to  glance  at  the  history  and 
beauties  of  Hyde  Park ;  many  more  pages  could  be 
written  without  touching  on  half  of  the  incidents  con- 
nected with  it,  between  the  days  when  it  was  monastic 
lands  to  the  days  of  the  modern  Sunday  "Church  Parade." 
It  is  interesting  to  trace  the  origin  of  the  little  customs 
with  which  every  one  is  now  familiar,  but  which  once 
were  new  and  original.  For  instance,  the  naming  of 
trees  and  flowers  in  the  Parks  was  first  done  about  1 842, 
the  idea  having  been  suggested  by  Loudon,  and  carried 
out  by  Nash  the  architect,  and  George  Don  the  botanist. 
Then  the  system  of  paying  a  penny  for  a  seat  began  in 
1820,  but  when  some  of  the  free  seats  were  removed  in 
1859  there  was  a  great  outcry,  and  they  were  immediately 
put  back.  Then  the  meets  of  the  Four-in-hand  and 
Coaching  Clubs,  which  are  quite  an  institution  in  Hyde 
Park,  only  continue  the  tradition  of  the  "  Whip  Club," 
which  first  met  in  1808.  The  history  of  the  various 
gates  calls  for  notice.  The  Marble  Arch,  designed  by 
Nash,  with  ornaments  by  Flaxman,  Westmacott,  and 
Rossi,  in  Carrara  marble,  was  moved  from  Buckingham 
Palace  to  its  present  position  in  1851.  Over  ^^4000  was 
expended  on  the  removal,  while  the  original  sum  spent 
was  ;^ 7 5,000.  The  statue  of  George  IV.  by  Chantrey, 
now  in  Pall  Mall  East,  was  intended  for  the  top,  and  cost 
9000  guineas,  and  the  bronze  gates  are  by  Samuel  Parker. 
Near  that  corner  of  the  Park  was  a  stone  where  soldiers 


FOUNTAIN  BY  COUNTESS  FEODOR  GLEICHEN, 
HYDE  PARK 


iRKS    &   Cj.^i\ 

!itess  Feodore  ( 

s,  with  bow  an 

re   of  bronze, 

id  the  lower  of  T        . 

■  and  elegant,  and  shows  up  well 

,1. 

possible  to  glance  at  the  history  and 
Hyde    Park ;    many  more   pages    could  be 
X  vithout  touching  on  half  of  the  incidents  con- 

r  ith  it,  bet\'  '      :^  '-   -^  it  was  monastic 

k...  he  tiavs  of  Church  Parade." 

It  is  of  the  little  customs 

with 


;    tile   S)  a 

. .  „o,  hm  "^v  _  in 

1859  th  were  immediately 

put  back.  Then  the  meets  of  the  Four-in-hand  and 
Coaching  Clubs,  which  are  quite  an  institution  in  Hyde 
Park,  only  continue  the  tradition  of  the  "Whip  Club," 
which  ^rcr  met  in  1808.  The  history  of  tlsrr  various 
gate-  ')r  notice.     The  Marble  Arc! 

Nasr..  ents    by  Flaxman,   "  j 

Rossi,  li  arble,  was  move  •  m 

Palace  t;  position  in  1 8 

expended  o  /al,  while  th 

y> 

,1^3HOI3JO   5!Oa03^  233T7IUOD  Yd.  VllATVlUOH   t 
Near  th.^  of  the  Park  v.  Idiers 


HYDE    PARK  ^^ 

were  shot,  and  one  of  the  historians  of  the  Park  states 
that  it  is  still  there,  only  covered  over  with  earth  when  the 
new  Cumberland  Gate  was  made  in  1822.  Apsley  Gate 
at  Hyde  Park  Corner  was  designed  by  Decimus  Burton, 
and  put  up  in  1827,  and  he  planned  the  arch  forming 
the  entrance  to  Constitution  Hill  the  following  year. 
The  stags,  by  Bartolozzi,  on  Albert  Gate,  came  from 
the  Ranger's  Lodge  in  Green  Park.  Grosvenor  Gate  was 
opened  about  1724,  and  Stanhope  Gate  some  twenty- 
five  years  later.     All  the  others  are  more  modern. 

Those  who  wish  to  pursue  the  subject  further  will 
find  such  details  more  or  less  accessible  in  various  guide- 
books. But  to  every  one  the  Park,  with  all  its  charms, 
its  beauties,  and  its  memories,  is  open,  and  it  is  certain 
that  the  better  it  is  known  the  more  it  will  be  ap- 
preciated. 


CHAPTER  III 

ST.  JAMES'S  AND   GREEN    PARKS 

Near  this  my  Muse,  nvhat  most  delights  her,  sees 
A  living  Gallery  of  Aged  Trees  : 
Bold  sons  of  Earthy  that  thrust  their  Arms  so  high. 
As  if  once  more  they  tvould  invade  the  Sky. 

Here  Charles  contrives  the  ordering  of  his  States  ; 
Here  he  resolves  his  neighboring  Princes^  Fates  ; 

A  Prince  on  ivhom  such  dijf^ rent  Lights  did  smile. 
Born  the  divided  World  to  reconcile. 
Whatever  Heaven  or  high  extracted  Blood 
Could  promise  or  for et el,  he'll  make  it  good. 
Reform  these  Nations,  and  improve  them  more 
Than  this  fair  Park,  from  ivhat  it  'was  before. 

— St.  James's  Park  :   "  Poetical  Essay,"  by  Waller. 


HE  opening  history  of  St.  James's 

and  Green  Parks  is  similar  to  that 

of  Hyde  Park.    They  formed  part 

of  the  same  manor  in  early  days, 

and    became    Crown    property    in 

Henry  VIII. 's  time.      St.  James's 

Park  was  chiefly  a   marsh.      The 

Thames     overflowed     its      banks 

nearly  every  year,  and  the  low-lying  parts  were  a  swamp 

and  the  haunt  of  wild  fowl,  and   the  chief  use  of  the 

Park  was  for  the  sport  the  wild  birds  afforded.      The 

Tyburn   flowed   through   it   on   its   way  from   where    it 

56 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      S7 

crossed  the  modern  Oxford  Street  to  where  it  joined 
the  Thames,  a  little  west  of  where  Vauxhall  Bridge 
afterwards  stood.  It  passed  right  across  Green  Park, 
where  the  depression  of  its  valley  can  still  be  traced 
between  Half  Moon  Street  and  Down  Street.  The 
name,  St.  James's,  originated  with  the  hospital  for  lepers, 
dedicated  to  St.  James,  on  the  site  of  the  present  palace. 
The  exact  date  of  its  foundation  is  lost  in  the  mists  of 
antiquity,  but  it  was  established  by  the  citizens  of 
London,  ''before  the  time  of  any  man's  memorie,  for 
14  Sisters,  maydens,  that  were  leprous,  living  chastly 
and  honestly  in  Divine  Service."  Later,  there  were 
further  gifts  of  land  and  money  from  the  citizens,  and 
"8  brethren  to  minister  Divine  Service  there"  were 
added  to  the  foundation.  All  these  gifts  were  sub- 
sequently confirmed  by  Edward  I.,  who  granted  a  fair 
to  be  held  for  seven  days,  commencing  on  the  eve  of 
St.  James's  Day,  in  St.  James's  Fields,  which  belonged  to 
the  hospital.  The  letting  out  of  the  land  for  booths 
became  a  source  of  further  income  to  the  lepers.  Stowe 
shortly  tells  the  subsequent  history.  "  This  Hospital 
was  surrendered  to  Henry  the  8  the  23  of  his  reigne : 
the  Sisters  being  compounded  with  were  allowed  Pensions 
for  terme  of  their  lives,  and  the  King  builded  there  a 
goodly  Manner,  annexing  thereunto  a  Park,  closed  about 
with  a  wall  of  brick,  now  called  St.  James's  Parke,  serving 
indifferently  to  the  said  Mannor,  and  to  the  Mannor 
or  Palace  of  Whitehall."  At  first  sight  the  summary 
ejection  of  these  helpless  creatures  appears  unusually 
heartless,  even  for  those  days  ;  but  leprosy,  which  during 
the  time  of  the  Crusades  had  grown  to  a  formidable 
extent,  was  declining  in  the  sixteenth  century  in  Eng- 
land.     It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  the  poor  outcast 


58      LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

sisters,  possessed  of  their  pensions,  would  be  able  to  find 
shelter  in  one  of  the  other  leper  hospitals,  of  which  there 
were  still  a  number  in  the  country. 

The  space  between  Whitehall  and  Westminster, 
acquired  from  the  Abbey,  was  turned  into  an  orchard. 
The  site  of  Montagu  House  was  the  bowling-green  of 
the  Palace,  which  stretched  to  the  river.  A  high  terrace 
and  flight  of  steps  led  to  the  Privy  Garden  of  Whitehall, 
so,  except  for  the  Palace  and  the  Westminster  group, 
there  were  no  buildings  between  the  river  and  the  Park. 
It  requires  some  stretch  of  the  imagination  to  efface  the 
well-known  edifices  which  now  surround  it,  and  to  see  it 
in  its  natural  state.  Flights  of  wild  birds  would  pass 
from  the  marshy  ground  to  the  river,  unchecked  by  the 
pile  of  Government  offices.  Behind  the  Leper  Hospital 
lay  fields  and  scattered  houses.  The  far-off  villages  of 
Knightsbridge  and  Chelsea  would  scarcely  come  into  sight, 
while  beyond  the  village  of  Charing  the  walls  and  towers 
of  the  City  would  loom  in  the  distance.  Henry  VIII. 
made  some  alterations,  and  may  have  partially  drained 
the  ground  and  stocked  it  with  deer.  Old  maps  show 
a  pond  at  the  west  end,  near  the  present  Wellington 
Barracks,  called  Rosamund's  Pond,  The  origin  of  the 
name  is  uncertain,  but  "  Rosemonsbore,  or  Rosamund's 
Bower,"  occurs  in  a  lease  of  land  near  this  spot  from  the 
Abbey  of  Westminster  as  early  as  1520.  Hard  by  was  a 
*'  mount,"  such  as  was  to  be  seen  in  every  sixteenth- 
century  garden,  probably  with  an  arbour  and  seat  on  the 
top  to  overlook  the  pond.  The  first  mention  of  St. 
James's  as  a  Park  is  in  1539,  on  an  occasion  described 
in  Hall's  Chronicle,  when  Henry  VIII.  held  a  review 
of  the  city  militia.  "The  King  himself,"  writes  the 
chronicler,  "  would  see  the  people  of  the  Citie  muster 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      59 

in  sufficient  nombre.  .  .  ,"  Some  15,000,  leaving  the 
City  after  passing  by  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  went 
"  directly  to  Westminster  and  so  through  the  Sanctuary 
and  round  about  the  Park  of  St.  James,  and  so  up  into 
the  fields  and  came  home  through  Holborne." 

It  was  not  until  James  I.'s  time  that  the  Park  began 
to  be  esteemed  as  a  resort  for  those  attached  to  the  Court. 
Prince  Henry,  the  elder  brother  of  Charles  I.,  made  the 
tilting-ring  on  the  site  of  the  present  Horse  Guards' 
Parade,  and  brought  the  enclosure  more  into  vogue  for 
games.  James  I.  made  use  of  the  Park  for  his  own 
hobbies,  one  of  which  was  the  encouragement  of  growing 
vines  and  mulberries  in  England.  He  planted  consider- 
able vineyards,  and  in  1609  he  sent  a  circular  letter  to 
the  Lords-Lieutenant  of  each  county,  ordering  them  to 
announce  that  the  following  spring  a  thousand  mulberry 
trees  would  be  sent  to  each  county  town,  and  people 
were  required  to  buy  them  at  the  rate  of  three-farthings 
a  plant.  To  further  prosecute  his  plan,  the  King  set 
an  example  by  planting  a  mulberry  orchard  at  the  end 
of  St.  James's  Park.  The  place  afterwards  became  a 
fashionable  tea  garden,  and  Buckingham  Palace  is  partly 
built  on  the  site.  The  King  kept  also  quite  a  large 
menagerie  of  beasts  and  birds  presented  to  him  by 
various  crowned  heads,  or  sent  to  him  by  friends  and 
favourites.  There  are  records  of  elephants,  camels, 
antelopes,  beavers,  crocodiles,  wild  boars,  and  sables, 
besides  many  kinds  of  birds.  The  keepers  of  the 
animals  received  large  salaries,  and  the  cost  of  the  care 
of  these  beasts  would  frighten  the  Zoological  Society  of 
to-day.  No  expense  was  spared  to  give  the  best  and 
most  suitable  surroundings  to  the  animals.  For  instance, 
as   much   as   £2^6   was    expended    in    161 8    by   Robert 


6o   LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

Wood,  the  keeper  of  the  cormorants,  ospreys,  and  otters, 
"  in  building  a  place  to  keep  the  said  cormorants  in 
and  making  nine  fish-ponds  on  land  within  the  vine 
garden  at  Westminster."  Fish  were  put  in  for  these 
creatures,  and  a  sluice  was  made  to  bring  water  from 
the  Thames  to  fill  the  ponds.  These  strange  beasts 
and  birds  and  their  attendants  must  have  been  a 
quaint  and  unusual  sight.  The  keepers  were  dressed 
in  red  cloth  (which  cost  nine  shillings  a  yard),  em- 
broidered with  "  I.R."  in  Venice  gold,  and  must  have 
added  to  the  picturesque  appearance  of  this  early 
Zoological  Garden. 

Gradually  the  Park  became  more  and  more  a  favourite 
place  in  which  to  stroll.  Others  were  admitted  besides 
the  Court  circle,  the  privilege  being  first  accorded  to  the 
tenants  of  the  houses  at  Westminster.  Milton,  who  lived 
at  one  time  in  Petty  France,  near  where  Queen  Anne's 
Gate  now  stands,  planted  a  tree  in  the  garden  over- 
looking the  Park,  which  survived  until  recent  times, 
would  be  one  of  those  to  enjoy  the  advantage.  Charles 
I.  passed  this  way  on  his  last  journey  to  Whitehall  on 
the  fatal  30th  of  January,  and  tradition  says  he  paused 
to  notice  a  tree  planted  by  his  brother  Henry.  During 
the  Commonwealth,  the  Park  still  was  resorted  to.  In 
the  sprightly  letters  of  Dorothy  Osborne  to  Sir  William 
Temple  are  some  vivid  little  touches  in  reference  to 
it.  She  writes  from  the  country  in  March  1654:  "And 
hark  you,  can  you  tell  me  whether  the  gentleman  that 
lost  a  crystal  box  the  ist  of  February  in  St.  James's 
Park  or  Old  Spring  Gardens  has  found  it  again  or  not  ? 
I  have  a  strong  curiosity  to  know."  Again,  in  June 
of  the  same  year,  she  writes  from  London,  where  she 
was  paying  a  visit:   "I'll  swear  they  will  not  allow  me 


ST.   JAxMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      6i 

time  for  anything  ;  and  to  show  how  absolutely  I  am 
governed,  I  need  but  tell  you  that  I  am  every  night 
in  the  Park  and  at  New  Spring  Gardens,  where,  though 
I  come  with  a  mask,  I  cannot  escape  being  known  nor 
my  conversation  being  admired." 

The   most  brilliant  days  of  its  history  began,  how- 
ever, in  Charles  II. 's  reign.     He  entirely  remodelled  it, 
and   began  the  work   soon  after  his  return  from   exile, 
imbued  with  foreign  ideas  of  gardening.     It  has  always 
been   supposed   that   Le  Notre   was  responsible  for  the 
designs,  and  it  has  often  been  asserted  that  he  himself 
came   to  England  to  see   them  carried  out.     But  close 
investigation  has  furnished  no  proof  of  this,   and  it  is 
practically  certain   that,  although    invited,  and  allowed 
by  Louis  XIV.  to  come  to  England,  he  never  actually 
did  so.     Other  "French  gardeners"  certainly  came,  and 
one  of  them.  La  Quintinge,  made  many  English  friends, 
and  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  them  after  his  return 
to  France.     Perrault  probably  visited  London  also,  and 
may  have  superintended   the  "French  gardeners"  who 
were  employed  on  St.  James's  Park.     They  transformed 
the   whole   place.      Avenues — the    Mall  and   "Birdcage 
Walk" — were  planted.     A  straight  canal  passed  down 
the   middle,   and   at  the  end,  near  the  present  Foreign 
Office,   was  the   duck  decoy.      The   "Birdcage   Walk" 
IS  no  fantastic  title,  for  birds  were  literally  kept  there 
in  cages.     These  were  probably  aviaries  for  large  birds, 
and   not    little    hanging    cages,  as  has    been   sometimes 
suggested.      A  well-known   passage   occurs  in  Evelyn's 
Diary,    1664,   where   he   enumerates  some   of  the   birds 
and   beasts   he   saw    during    one    of  his   walks  through 
the    Park.       The    pelican   delighted   him,   although   "a 
melancholy  waterfowl,"  and   he  watched  the  skilful  way 


62   LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

it  devoured  fish  ;  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  re- 
corded the  strange  fact  that  one  of  the  two  Balearian 
cranes  had  a  wooden  leg,  made  by  a  soldier,  with  a 
joint,  so  that  the  bird  could  "walk  and  use  it  as  well 
as  if  it  had  been  natural  "  ;  and  he  speaks  with  interest 
of  a  solan  goose,  a  stork,  a  milk-white  raven,  and  "  a 
curious  sort  of  poultry,"  besides  "  deer  of  several 
countries,"  antelopes,  elk,  "  Guinea  goats,  Arabian 
sheep,  etc."  The  duck  decoy  lay  at  the  south-west  end 
of  the  long  canal,  which  formed  part  of  the  new  French 
design.  This  "  duck  island "  was  rather  a  series  of 
small  islands,  as  it  was  intersected  by  canals  and  reed- 
covered  channels  for  catching  duck.  This  was  a 
favourite  resort  of  Charles  II, ,  who  has  often  been  de- 
scribed feeding  his  ducks  in  St.  James's  Park.  To  be 
keeper  of  the  ducks,  or  "  Governor  of  Duck  Island," 
was  granted  to  St.  Evremond,  an  excuse  for  bestowing 
a  yearly  salary  on  a  favourite.  The  birds  continued 
after  the  King,  who  had  found  in  them  a  special  recrea- 
tion, had  passed  away.  In  William  III.'s  time  the 
Park  is  still  described  as  "  full  of  very  fine  walkes  and 
rowes  of  trees,  ponds,  and  curious  birds.  Deer,  and  some 
fine  Cows."  A  Dutch  traveller  who  was  in  England 
from  1693-96  notices  the  famous  old  white  raven.  By 
that  time  the  ducks  were  no  longer  the  fashion,  and 
evidently  there  was  an  inclination  to  despise  the  former 
craze  for  wild  fowl.  A  Frenchman,  named  M.  de 
Sorbiere,  visited  England  about  this  time,  and  wrote  an 
account  of  his  impressions.  Some  of  his  adverse  criticisms 
of  English  people  and  institutions  got  him  into  trouble. 
A  supposed  translation  of  his  book  was  published  in 
1698,  and  until  1709  was  held  to  be  a  correct  version. 
In  reality  it  was  a  clever  skit,  and  not  in  the  least  like 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      63 

the  original.  In  the  true  version  he  describes  the  Park 
with  its  rows  of  trees  and  "admirable  prospect"  of 
the  suburbs,  and  mentions  that  the  King  had  "erected 
a  tall  Pile  in  the  Park,  the  better  to  make  use  of 
Telescopes,  with  which  Sir  Robert  Murray  shew'd  me 
Saturn  and  the  Satellites  of  Jupiter."  Not  a  word  about 
the  ducks.  But  in  the  spurious  parody  of  1698  there 
is  a  humorous  description,  which  shows  how  the  next 
generation  laughed  at  the  amusements  of  King  Charles  II. 
"I  was  at  St.  James's  Park;  there  were  no  Pavillions, 
nor  decoration  of  Treilliage  and  Flowers ;  but  I  saw 
there  a  vast  number  of  Ducks;  these  were  a  most 
surprising  sight.  I  could  not  forbear  to  say  to  Mr. 
Johnson,  who  was  pleased  to  accompany  me  in  this 
Walk,  that  sure  all  the  ponds  in  England  had  contri- 
buted to  this  profussion  of  Ducks ;  which  he  took  so 
well,  that  he  ran  immediately  to  an  Old  Gentleman  that 
sate  in  a  Chair,  and  was  feeding  of  'em.  He  rose  up  very 
obligingly,  embraced  me,  and  saluted  me  with  a  Kiss, 
and  invited  me  to  Dinner ;  telling  me  he  was  infinitely 
oblig'd  to  me  for  flattering  the  King's  Ducks." 

Little  attention  was  paid  to  the  wild  fowl  in  the 
Park  after  that  date,  until  the  Prince  Consort  took  an 
interest  in  them.  In  1841  he  became  the  Patron  of  the 
Ornithological  Society,  and  the  cottage  on  Duck  Island 
was  built  for  the  Bird-keeper.  For  some  thirty  years 
the  Society  flourished,  and  kept  up  the  supply  and  cared 
for  the  birds  in  the  Park.  In  1867,  however,  their 
numbers  were  greatly  reduced,  and  the  Society  sold 
their  collection  of  birds  to  H.M.  Office  of  Works, 
which  has  since  then  had  them  under  its  charge.  It  is 
pleasant  to  know  that  the  old  tradition  of  the  wild  fowl 
in  that  part  of  the  Park  is  maintained.     Although  the 


64      LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

duck  pond  of  King  Charles's  time  must  have  looked 
somewhat  different  from  that  of  to-day,  the  birds  can  be 
made  as  much  at  home,  and  they  nest  peacefully  on  the 
modern  Duck  Island,  its  direct  descendant.  Moorhens 
and  dabchicks,  or  little  grebes,  have  for  the  last  twenty 
years  nested  in  the  Park.  They  used  to  leave  for  the 
breeding  season,  but  since  1883,  when  the  first  moorhen 
nested,  they  have  gradually  taken  to  remaining  con- 
tentedly all  through  the  year,  and  bring  up  their  young 
there.  Birds  seem  to  choose  the  Park  to  rest  in,  and 
many  migratory  ones  have  been  noticed.  Kingfishers 
have  recently  been  let  out  near  the  site  of  the  ancient 
bird  cages,  in  the  hope  that  they  may  carry  on  the 
historic  association. 

The  cows,  which  were  a  part  of  ancient  history,  as 
were  the  birds,  have  not  been  so  fortunate.  Although 
a  newspaper  clamour  in  defence  of  the  cows  was  raised, 
the  few  remaining  were  finally  banished  in  1905,  when 
the  alterations  in  the  Mall  were  made.  These  survivals 
standing  by  the  dusty  stalls  could  scarcely  be  called 
picturesque ;  and  although  interest  undoubtedly  was 
attached  to  them  as  venerable  survivals  of  an  old  custom, 
they  hardly  suggested  the  rural  simplicity  of  the  days 
when  cows  were  really  pastured  in  the  Park.  For  over 
two  centuries  grazing  was  let  to  the  milk-women  who 
sold  milk  at  the  end  of  the  Park,  near  Whitehall.  They 
paid  half-a-crown  a  week,  and  after  1772  three  shillings 
a  week,  for  the  right  to  feed  cattle  in  the  Park,  A 
Frenchman,  describing  St  James's  at  that  time,  is  aston- 
ished at  its  rural  aspect.  "  In  that  part  nearest  West- 
minster nature  appears  in  all  its  rustic  simplicity ;  it  is 
a  meadow,  regularly  intersected  and  watered  by  canals, 
and  with  willows  and  poplars,  without   any   regard   to 


CROCUSES  IN  EARLY  SPRING,  ST.  JAMES*S  PARK 


es's  time  looked 

ii  that  of  to-da^  he 

loe,  and  they  nest  ''^■ 

li,  its  direct  desce;: 
Ittle  grebes,  have  for  the  last  twenty 
the  Park.     They  used  to  icavc  for  the 
uii,  but  since  1883,  when  the  first  moorhen 
V    have    gradually   taken    to    remaining    con- 
through  the  year,  and  bring  up  their  young 
Birds  seem  to  choose  the  Park  to  rest  in,  and 
_....  '--        ^    -  -J        Kingfishers 

>f  the  arjcient 
bird   cag  ne 

historic  assc 


the  tew  remain  ^^n 

the  alterations  i  ils 

standing   by  the     _..  .  . ..     ._    -^.led 

pirruresque ;     and   although    interest    undoubtedly    was 

hem  as  venerable  survivals  of  an  old  custom, 

cd  the  rural  simplicity  of  the   days 

Jly  pastured  in  the  Park.     For  over 

ng  was  let  to  the  milk-women  who 

1  of  the  Park,  near  Whitehall.     They 

week,  and  after  1772  three  shillings 

■■^  to  feed   cattle   in  the    Park.     A 

-^t  James's  at  that  time,  is  aston- 

''  In  that  part  nearest  West- 

Ul  its  rustic  simplicity;  it.  is 

:h;^A4  2*2HMAl  .T2  ,OK[Ii^42  YJ^AH  WI  232UD6:^D 


.■  •:^_i:*'*'-'!ira^  V 


ST.   JAMES'S    &    GREEN    PARKS      65 

order.  On  this  side,  as  well  as  on  that  towards  St. 
James's  Palace,  the  grass  plots  are  covered  with  cows 
and  deer,  where  they  graze  or  chew  the  cud,  some 
standing,  some  lying  down  upon  the  grass.  .  .  .  Agree- 
ably to  this  rural  simplicity,  most  of  these  cows  are 
driven,  about  noon  and  evening,  to  the  gate  which  leads 
from  the  Park  to  the  quarter  of  Whitehall.  Tied  to 
posts  at  the  extremity  of  the  grass  plots,  they  swill  pas- 
sengers with  their  milk,  which,  being  drawn  from  their 
udders  on  the  spot,  is  served,  with  all  cleanliness  peculiar 
to  the  English,  in  little  mugs  at  the  rate  of  a  penny  a 
inug."  The  combination  of  the  gay  crowd  in  hooped 
petticoats,  brilliant  coats,  and  powdered  wigs,  with  the 
peaceful,  green  meadows  and  the  browsing  deer  and  cows, 
forms  an  attractive  picture. 

All  this  had  changed  long  before  the  final  departure 
of  the  cattle,  when  the  last  old  woman  was  pensioned  off, 
and  the  sheds  carted  away.  A  use  was  found  for  the 
fragments  of  the  concrete  foundations  of  the  last  milk- 
maid's stall.  They  were  made  into  a  sort  of  rockery, 
on  which  Alpine  plants  grow  well,  to  support  the  bank  at 
the  entrance  to  the  new  frame-grounds  at  Hyde  Park. 

But  to  return  to  Charles  II. 's  time,  when  the  cows 
were  undisturbed.  The  great  feature  of  what  Pepys 
calls  the  "  brave  alterations "  was  the  canal.  He 
mentions  more  than  one  visit  when  the  works  were  in 
progress.  In  October  1660  he  went  "to  walk  in  St. 
James's  Park,  where  we  observed  the  several  engines  at 
work  to  draw  up  water,  with  which  sight  I  was  very 
much  pleased."  The  canal,  when  finished,  was  2800 
feet  long  and  100  broad,  and  ran  through  the  centre  of 
the  Park,  beginning  near  the  north  end  of  Rosamund's 
Pond.     An  avenue  of  trees  was  planted  on  either  side, 


E 


66      LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

passing  down  between  the  canal  and  the  duck  decoy  to 
a  semicircular  double  avenue  near  the  tilting-ground. 
Deer  wandered  under  fine  old  oaks  between  the  canal 
and  the  avenues  of  "  the  Mall."  These  old  trees  have 
gradually  disappeared,  as  much  through  gales  as  from 
the  wanton  destruction  of  the  would-be  improver.  At 
the  hour  of  Cromwell's  death,  when  the  storm  was  so 
fierce  the  Royalists  said  it  was  due  to  fiends  coming  to 
claim  their  own,  much  havoc  was  wrought ;  and  from 
time  to  time  similar  destructions  have  taken  place,  one 
of  the  most  serious  being  in  November  1703,  when 
part  of  the  wall  and  over  100  elms  were  blown  down. 
Another  notable  gale  was  on  March  15,  1752,  when 
many  people  lost  their  lives.  "  In  St.  James's  Park  and 
the  villages  about  the  metropolis  great  numbers  of  trees 
were  demolished." 

The  broad  pathway,  between  avenues  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  Park  to  the  Birdcage  Walk,  now  called  the 
Mall,  derives  this  name  from  the  game  of  "  paille- 
maille,"  which  is  known  to  have  been  played  in  France 
as  early  as  the  thirteenth  century,  and  which  was  popular 
in  England  in  the  seventeenth.  The  locality,  however, 
where  it  was  first  played  in  James  I.'s  time  was  on  the 
northern  side  of  the  street,  which  is  still  called  from  it. 
Pall  Mall.  In  those  days  fields  stretched  away  beyond 
where  now  St.  James's  Square  lies,  and  a  single  row  of 
houses  lay  between  the  playground  and  the  Park.  As 
the  game  became  more  the  fashion,  the  coaches  and  dust 
were  found  too  disturbing  for  enjoyment,  and  a  new 
ground  was  laid  out,  running  parallel  to  the  old  one, 
but  within  the  Park.  The  game  is  considered  by  some 
to  be  a  forerunner  of  croquet,  as  it  was  played  with  a  ball 
(  =pila)  and  mallet,  the  name  being  derived   from  these 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      67 

two  words.  One  or  more  hoops  had  to  be  passed 
through,  and  a  peg  at  the  further  end  touched.  The 
winner  was  the  player  who  passed  the  hoops  and  reached 
the  peg  in  the  fewest  number  of  strokes.  The  whole 
course  measured  over  600  yards,  and  was  kept  brushed 
and  smooth,  and  the  ground  prepared  by  coating  the 
earth  with  crushed  shells,  which,  however,  remarked 
Pepys,  "  in  dry  weather  turns  to  dust  and  deads  the 
ball."  Both  Charles  II.  and  James  II.  were  much 
addicted  to  the  game,  and  the  flattering  poet  Waller 
eulogises  King  Charles's  "  matchless  "  skill  : — 

"  No  sooner  has  he  touched  the  flying  ball, 
But  'tis  already  more  than  half  the  Mall." 

The  Park  was  by  his  time  a  much-frequented  spot, 
and  crowds  delighted  to  watch  the  King  and  his  courtiers 
displaying  their  dexterity.  Charles  II.  is  more  intimately 
connected  with  St.  James's  Park  than  any  other  great 
personage.  He  sauntered  about,  fed  his  ducks,  played 
his  games,  and  made  love  to  fair  ladies,  all  with  in- 
dulgent, friendly  crowds  watching.  He  stood  in  the 
"  Green  Walk,"  beneath  the  trees,  to  talk  with  Nell 
Gwynn,  in  her  garden  "  on  a  terrace  on  the  top  of  the 
wall  "  overlooking  the  Park  ;  and  shocked  John  Evelyn, 
who  records,  in  his  journal,  that  he  heard  and  saw  "  a 
very  familiar  discourse  between  the  King  and  Mrs. 
Nelly."  Charles's  well-known  reply  to  his  brother,  that 
no  one  would  ever  kill  him  to  put  James  on  the  throne, 
was  said  in  answer  to  James's  protest  that  he  should  not 
venture  to  roam  about  so  much  without  attendants  in 
the  Park.  His  dogs  often  accompanied  him,  and 
perhaps,  like  most  of  their  descendants,  these  pets  had 
a  sporting  instinct,  and  ran  off  to  chase  the  deer.     Any- 


68   LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

how,  they  managed  frequently  to  escape  their  master's 
vigilance,  and  fell  a  prey  to  the  unscrupulous  thief,  and 
descriptions  of  the  missing  dogs  were  published  in  the 
Gazette.  One,  answering  to  the  name  Towser,  was 
"  liver  colour'd  and  white  spotted "  ;  and  a  "  dogg  of 
His  Majestie's,  full  of  blew  spots,  with  a  white  cross  on 
his  forehead  about  the  bigness  of  a  tumbler,"  was  lost  on 
another  occasion. 

Charles  with  his  dogs,  his  ducks,  his  wit,  his  engaging 
manners,  his  doubtful  morals,  is  the  central  figure  of  many 
a  picture  in  St.  James's  Park,  but  it  does  not  often  form 
a  background  to  his  Queen.  One  scene  described  by 
Pepys  has  much  charm.  The  party,  returning  from  Hyde 
Park  on  horseback  with  a  great  crowd  of  gallants,  pass 
down  the  Mall ;  the  Queen,  riding  hand  in  hand  with 
the  King,  looking  "  mighty  pretty "  in  her  white  laced 
coat  and  crimson  petticoat.  Again,  on  another  occasion, 
the  Queen  forms  an  attractive  vision,  as  she  walks  with 
her  ladies  from  Whitehall  to  St.  James's  dressed  from 
head  to  foot  in  silver  lace,  each  holding  an  immense 
green  fan  to  shade  themselves  from  the  fierce  rays  of  the 
June  sun,  while  a  delighted  crowd  throng  round  them. 

The  popularity  of  the  Mall  as  the  rendezvous  of  all 
classes  lasted  for  over  a  century.  Through  the  reigns 
of  Queen  Anne  and  George  I.  and  II.  all  the  fashionable 
world  of  London  congregated  there  twice  daily.  In  the 
morning  the  promenade  took  them  there  from  twelve 
to  two,  and  after  dinner  in  full  dress  they  thronged 
thither  again,  not  to  play  the  game  of  paille-maille,  which 
was  then  out  of  fashion,  but  simply  to  walk  about  under 
the  trees  and  be  amused  with  races,  wrestlings,  or  an 
impromptu  dance.  Every  well-known  person — courtiers, 
wits,  beaux,  writers,  poets,  artists,  soldiers — and  all  the 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      69 

beautiful  and  fascinating  women,  great  ladies  as  well 
as  more  humble  charmers,  and  bold  adventuresses,  were 
to  be  seen  there  daily. 

The  crowds  seem  to  have  been  very  free  in  their 
admiration  of  some  of  the  distinguished  ladies.  When 
the  three  lovely  Misses  Gunning  captivated  everybody 
with  their  wit  and  beauty,  they  had  only  to  appear  in 
the  Mall  to  be  surrounded  by  admirers.  On  one  occasion 
they  were  so  pressed  by  the  curious  mob  that  one  of 
these  matchless  young  charmers  fainted  and  had  to  be 
*'  carried  home  in  a  sedan," 

On  looking  at  an  old  print  of  the  ladies  in  their  thin 
dresses  walking  in  the  Mall,  it  is  customary  to  bemoan 
the  change  of  climate,  to  wonder  if  our  great-great-grand- 
mothers were  supernaturally  strong  and  not  sensitive 
to  cold,  or  to  conclude  that  they  only  paraded  there  in 
fine  weather.  Apparently  this  last  is  not  the  correct 
solution,  for  in  1765  they  astonished  Monsieur  Grosley 
by  their  disregard  of  the  elements.  He  is  horrified  at 
the  fog.  "  The  smoke,"  he  writes,  "  forms  a  cloud 
which  envelopes  London  like  a  mantle ;  a  cloud  which 
the  sun  pervades  but  rarely ;  a  cloud  which,  recoiling 
back  upon  itself,  suffers  the  sun  to  break  out  only 
now  and  then,  which  casual  appearance  procures  the 
Londoners  a  few  of  what  they  call  glorious  days.  The 
great  love  of  the  English  for  walking  defies  the  badness 
of  other  days.  On  the  26th  April,  St.  James's  Park, 
incessantly  covered  with  fogs,  smoke,  and  rain,  that 
scarce  left  a  possibility  of  distinguishing  objects  at  a 
distance  of  four  steps,  was  filled  with  walkers,  who  were 
an  object  of  musing  and  admiration  to  me  during  the 
whole  day."  Few  ladies  nowadays  fear  a  little  fog  or 
rain,  but  to  walk  in  it   they   must   be   attired  in  short 


70      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

skirts,  thick  boots,  and  warm  or  mackintosh  coats.  It 
must  have  been  much  more  distressing  in  the  days  of 
powdered  hair,  picture  hats,  and  flimsy  garments.  No 
wonder  M.  Grosley  was  astounded  at  the  persistence 
of  the  poor  draggled  ladies. 

All  foreign  visitors  to  London  naturally  went  to 
see  the  Mall.  Here  is  the  account  of  a  German  baron, 
describing  the  man  of  the  world  :  "  He  rises  late,  dresses 
himself  in  a  frock  (close-fitting  garment,  without  pockets, 
and  with  narrow  sleeves),  leaves  his  sword  at  home,  takes 
his  cane,  and  goes  where  he  likes.  Generally  he  takes 
his  promenade  in  the  Park,  for  that  is  the  exchange 
for  the  men  of  quality.  'Tis  such  another  place  as  the 
Garden  of  the  Tuileries  in  Paris,  only  the  Park  has  a 
certain  beauty  of  simplicity  which  cannot  be  described. 
The  grand  walk  is  called  the  Mall.  It  is  full  of  people 
at  all  hours  of  the  day,  but  especially  in  the  morning 
and  evening,  when  their  Majesties  often  walk  there,  with 
the  royal  family,  who  are  attended  only  by  half-a-dozen 
Yeomen  of  the  Guard,  and  permit  all  persons  to  walk  at 
the  same  time  with  them." 

A  writer  in  1727,  waxing  eloquent  on  the  charms 
of  the  Park,  gives  up  the  task  of  describing  it,  as  "  the 
beauty  of  the  Mall  in  summer  is  almost  past  description." 
"  What  can  be  more  glorious  than  to  view  the  body  of 
the  nobility  of  our  three  kingdoms  in  so  short  a  compass, 
especially  when  freed  from  mixed  crowds  of  saucy  fops 
and  city  gentry .? "  But  more  often  the  company  was 
very  mixed,  and  manners  peculiar.  This  brilliant  and 
motley  assembly  indulged  in  all  kinds  of  amusements. 
Even  the  grandest  frequenters  afforded  diversion  some- 
times to  the  "  saucy  fops."  Wrestling  matches  between 
various   courtiers   attracted    crowds,   or   a  race    such    as 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      71 

one  between  the  Duke  of  Grafton  and  Dr.  Garth, 
of  200  yards,  was  the  excitement  of  the  day.  There 
were  odd  and  original  races  got  up,  and  wagers  freely 
staked.  Some  inhuman  parents  backed  their  baby  of 
eighteen  months  old  to  walk  the  whole  length  of  the 
Mall  ("half  a  mile)  in  thirty  minutes,  and  the  poor  little 
mite  performed  the  feat  in  twenty-three  minutes.  What 
comments  would  modern  philanthropic  societies  have 
made  on  such  a  performance ! 

A  race  between  a  fat  cook  and  a  lean  footman  caused 
great  merriment,  but  as  the  footman  was  handicapped  by 
carrying  no  lbs.,  the  fat  cook  won.  Another  time  it 
was  a  hopping-race  which  engrossed  attention — a  man 
undertook  to  hop  one  hundred  yards  in  fifty  hops,  and 
succeeded  in  doing  it  in  forty-six — and  endless  variety 
of  similar  follies.  The  crowds  who  assembled  indulged 
in  every  sort  of  gaiety ;  "  in  short,  no  freedoms  that  can 
be  taken  here  are  reckoned  indecent ;  all  passes  for  raillery 
and  harmless  gallantry." 

Although  open  to  all  the  world  for  walking,  only 
royal  personages  or  a  few  specially  favoured  people  were 
allowed  to  drive  through.  It  was  one  of  the  grievances 
of  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough  when  the  Duke  was 
in  disgrace  that  the  privilege  of  driving  her  coach  and 
six  through  the  Park  was  denied  her.  The  remaining 
restrictions  with  regard  to  carriages  have  only  passed 
away  in  very  recent  years.  The  notice  board  stating  that 
Members  of  Parliament  during  the  session  might  drive 
through  the  Park  from  Great  George  Street  to  Marl- 
borough House  was  only  removed  when  the  road  was 
opened  to  all  traffic  in  1887,  and  Constitution  Hill 
only  became  a  public  highway  in  1889.  The  use  of 
the  road  passing  under  the  Horse  Guards'   Archway  is 


72   LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

still    restricted   to  those  who  receive  special  permission 
from  the  sovereign. 

The  Park  had  never  been  drained,  and  had  always 
shown  signs  of  its  marshy  origin,  and  "  Duck  Island  " 
was  really  a  natural  swamp.  An  unusually  high  tide 
flooded  the  low-lying  end  where  the  Horse  Guards' 
Parade  and  the  houses  of  Downing  Street  with  their 
little  gardens  now  stand.  What  state  secrets  they  could 
divulge  had  they  the  power  of  speech  !  The  tilting- 
ground  was  often  in  a  condition  quite  unfit  for  the 
exercise  of  troops,  so  with  a  view  to  preventing  this,  it 
was  paved  with  stone  early  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
It  has  always  been  used  for  military  displays,  and  the 
trooping  of  the  colours  on  the  King's  birthday  takes 
place  on  the  same  ground  which  witnessed  the  brilliant 
scene  when  the  colours,  thirty-eight  in  number,  captured 
at  the  battle  of  Blenheim  were  conveyed  to  Westminster 
Abbey.  On  the  parade-ground  now  stands  the  gun  cast 
at  Seville,  used  by  Soult  at  Cadiz,  and  taken  after  the 
battle  of  Salamanca.  Here  many  an  impressive  cere- 
mony of  distributing  medals,  and  countless  parades,  have 
taken  place  through  many  generations.  Here,  with  the 
brutality  of  old  days,  corporal  punishment  was  ad- 
ministered, and  offending  soldiers  were  flogged  in  full 
view  of  the  merry-making  crowds  assembled  in  the  Park. 
Round  the  Park  lay  other  marshy  lands,  also  frequently 
flooded  by  the  Thames,  and  it  was  not  surprising  that 
on  one  occasion  an  otter  found  its  way  from  the  river  and 
settled  down  on  Duck  Island  and  there  grew  fat  on  the 
King's  carp.  Sir  Robert  Walpole  sent  to  Houghton  for 
his  otter-hounds,  and  an  exciting  hunt  ensued,  in  which 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland  took  part,  and  the  offending 
otter  was  captured. 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      73 

Rosamund's  Pond  had,  in  the  course  of  time,  become 
stagnant  and  unpleasant,  and  there  were  frequent  com- 
plaints of  its  unsavoury  condition.  About  1736  a  machine 
for  pumping  out  water  was  invented  by  a  Welshman, 
and  used  successfully  to  empty  the  pond,  and  it  was 
thoroughly  cleansed.  Thirty  years  later  the  same  evil 
began  again  to  be  a  nuisance,  and  it  was  decided  to  drain 
and  fill  up  the  pond  entirely,  which  was  accomplished 
about  1772.  The  trees  on  the  island  were  felled,  and 
those  near  the  bank  died  from  the  lack  of  water,  so  at 
first  the  absence  of  the  slimy  pond  must  have  been  dis- 
figuring. The  shady  walk  near  it,  known  as  the  Close 
Walk  or  the  Jacobites'  Walk,  must  have  disappeared 
when  the  trees  died.  About  the  same  time  the  swampy 
moat  round  Duck  Island  was  filled  up  and  the  canal 
cleaned  out.  When  these  improvements  were  completed 
in  1775  some  birds  were  put  on  the  canal.  One  of  them 
was  a  swan  called  Jack,  belonging  to  Queen  Charlotte, 
which  was  reared  in  the  garden  of  Buckingham  House. 
This  bird  ruled  the  roost  for  many  a  day,  and  was  a 
popular  favourite.  It  lived  until  1840,  when  some 
new  arrivals,  in  the  shape  of  Polish  geese,  pecked  and 
ill-treated  the  poor  old  bird  so  seriously  that  he  died. 

About  1786  fashion  began  to  desert  the  Mall  for  the 
Green  Park,  and  the  crowds  which  collected  there  were 
no  longer  intermingled  with  the  Court  circle.  In  a  letter 
to  her  daughter  Madame  Roland  describes  the  company 
in  the  Mall  as  very  different  from  what  it  was  a  few  years 
earlier,  for  though  it  was  "very  brilliant  on  a  Sunday 
evening,  and  full  of  well-to-do  people  and  well-dressed 
women,  in  general  they  are  ail  tradespeople  and  citizens." 
A  generation  later  the  Mall  seems  to  have  become  quite 
deserted.      Sir  Richard  Phillips,  in  his  morning's  walk 


74      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

from  London  to  Kew  in  1817,  bemoans  the  absence  of 
the  gay  throng  : — 

"  My  spirits  sank,  and  a  tear  started  into  my  eyes,  as 
I  brought  to  mind  those  crowds  of  beauty,  rank,  and 
fashion  which,  until  within  these  few  years,  used  to  be 
displayed  in  the  centre  Mall  of  this  Park  on  Sunday 
evenings  during  spring  and  summer.  How  often  in  my 
youth  had  I  been  the  delighted  spectator  of  the  enchanted 
and  enchanting  assemblage.  Here  used  to  promenade, 
for  one  or  two  hours  after  dinner,  the  whole  British 
world  of  gaiety,  beauty,  and  splendour.  Here  could  be 
seen  in  one  moving  mass,  extending  the  whole  length  of 
the  Mall,  5000  of  the  most  lovely  women  in  this  country 
of  female  beauty,  all  splendidly  attired,  and  accompanied 
by  as  many  well-dressed  men.  What  a  change,  I  ex- 
claimed, has  a  few  years  wrought  in  these  once  happy 
and  cheerful  personages  !  How  many  of  those  who  on 
this  very  spot  then  delighted  my  eyes  are  now  mouldering 
in  the  silent  grave  !  " 

About  1730  Queen  Caroline,  who  was  then  busy  with 
the  alterations  in  Hyde  Park,  turned  her  attention  to  what 
is  now  known  as  the  Green  Park  also.  It  had  all  formed 
part  of  St.  James's  Park,  and  was  known  as  the  Upper  Park 
or  Little  St.  James's  Park.  It  was  enclosed  by  a  brick  wall 
in  1667  by  Charles  II.,  who  stocked  it  with  deer.  In  the 
centre  of  the  Park  an  ice-house  was  made,  at  that  time 
a  great  novelty  in  this  country,  although  well  known  in 
France  and  Italy.  In  his  poem  on  St.  James's  Park 
Waller  alludes  to  it : — 

*'  Yonder  the  harvest  of  cold  months  laid  up 
Gives  a  fresh  coolness  to  the  royal  cup  ; 
There  ice  like  crystal  firm  and  never  lost 
Tempers  hot  July  with  December's  frost." 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      75 

No  further  alterations  were  made,  except  that,  in  168 1, 
Charles  effected  an  exchange  of  land  with  the  Earl  of 
Arlington,  on  which,  a  few  years  later,  Arlington  Street 
was  built.  The  path  which  runs  parallel  with  the  backs 
of  these  houses  was  Queen  Caroline's  idea,  and  she  used  it 
frequently  herself,  and  it  became  known  as  the  "  Queen's 
Walk."  The  houses  overlooking  the  Park  went  up  in 
value  as  the  occupants  could  enjoy  the  sight  of  the  Queen 
and  the  Princesses  taking  their  daily  walk.  The  line  of 
this  path  is  no  longer  the  same,  as  a  piece  was  cut  off  the 
Park  in  1795  and  leased  to  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater  to 
add  to  the  garden  of  his  house.  The  Queen  also  built 
a  pavilion  known  as  the  Queen's  Library  in  the  Park, 
where  she  spent  some  time  after  her  morning  promenades. 
Although  Queen  Caroline  took  to  the  Upper  Park,  the 
world  of  fashion  did  not  follow  at  once,  and  it  was  not 
until  about  1786  that  the  Green  Park  for  some  reason 
suddenly  became  the  rage.  The  only  incident  of  historic 
interest  between  this  date  and  the  making  of  the  road 
was  the  celebration  of  the  end  of  the  War  of  Succession 
in  the  spring  following  the  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle.  A 
great  pavilion  like  a  Doric  temple,  410  feet  long  and  1 14 
feet  high,  was  erected  near  the  wall  separating  the  Green 
Park  from  St.  James's,  and  on  the  27th  of  April  a  grand 
display  of  fireworks  was  arranged.  A  fire,  however, 
broke  out  just  as  the  performance  was  beginning,  when  a 
grand  overture  composed  by  Handel  had  been  performed, 
and  the  King  and  dense  crowds  were  watching  the  illumi- 
nations. The  flames  were  got  under,  but  not  before 
much  of  the  temporary  building  had  been  destroyed,  and 
the  greater  part  of  the  fireworks  perished  in  the  flames, 
and  several  fatal  and  serious  accidents  further  marred  the 
entertainment. 


76      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Near  the  top  of  the  Park  was  a  reservoir  or  "fine 
piece  of  water"  belonging  to  the  Chelsea  Waterworks, 
and  the  path  round  it  was  included  in  the  fashionable 
promenade  by  those  who  paraded  in  the  Queen's  Walk 
after  dinner.  Lower  down,  where  there  is  still  a  de- 
pression, was  a  little  pond,  originally  part  of  the  Tyburn 
stream.  The  "green  stagnant  pool"  was  abused  by  a 
writer  in  1 731,  who  regretted  that  trees  had  just  been 
planted  near  it,  which  probably  meant  that  the  offensive 
pool  would  "  not  soon  be  removed."  The  prophecy  was 
correct,  for  it  was  more  than  a  hundred  years  later  before 
this  was  filled  up.  The  Park  wall  ran  along  Piccadilly, 
and  here  and  there,  as  was  often  the  case  in  the  eighteenth 
century,  there  were  gaps  with  iron  rails,  through  which 
glimpses  of  the  Park  could  be  obtained.  Some  persons 
had  private  keys  to  the  gates  leading  into  the  Park  from 
Piccadilly.  Daring  robberies  were  by  no  means  un- 
common, and  thieves,  having  done  mischief  in  the  streets 
near  Piccadilly  on  more  than  one  occasion,  were  found 
to  be  provided  with  keys  to  the  gates,  through  which 
they  could  make  their  escape  into  the  Park  and  elude 
their  pursuers.  The  Ranger's  Lodge  stood  on  the 
northern  side,  and  was  rebuilt  and  done  up  in  I773- 
It  was  made  so  attractive  that  there  was  great  competi- 
tion, when  it  was  completed,  to  be  Deputy-ranger  and 
live  there.  The  two  stags  which  now  stand  on  Albert 
Gate,  Hyde  Park,  once  adorned  the  gates  of  this  Ranger's 
Lodge.  It  is  described  in  1792  as  "  a  very  neat  lodge 
surrounded  by  a  shrubbery,  which  renders  it  en- 
chantingly  rural."  When  George  III.  bought  Buck- 
ingham House,  then  an  old  red-brick  mansion,  he 
took  away  the  wall  which  separated  the  Green  Park 
from    St.   James's,   and   put   a    railing   instead.     In   this 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      yy 

wall  was  another  lodge,  and  a  few  trees  near  it,  known 
as  the  Wilderness. 

The  aspect  of  the  Mall  has  greatly  changed  since 
the  days  when  its  fashion  was  at  its  height.  Then  the 
gardens  of  St.  James's  Palace  ran  the  whole  length  of  the 
north  side  from  the  Palace  towards  Whitehall.  Stephen 
Switzer,  writing  in  17 15,  extols  the  beauty  of  the  garden, 
which  by  his  time  was  cut  up  and  partly  built  on.  "  The 
Royal  Garden  in  St.  James's  Park,  part  of  which  is  now  in 
the  possession  of  the  Right  Honourable  Lord  Carlton, 
and  the  upper  part  belonging  to  Marlborough  House, 
was  of  that  King's  [Charles  II.]  planting,  which  were  in 
the  remembrance  of  most  people  the  finest  Lines  of 
Dwarfs  perhaps  in  the  Universe.  Mr.  London"  .  .  , 
presumed  "  before  Monsieur  de  la  Quintinge,  the  famous 
French  gardener,  ...  to  challenge  all  France  with  the 
like,  and  if  France,  why  not  the  whole  World  .'' " 

Carlton  House,  a  red-brick  building,  with  the  stone 
portico  now  in  front  of  the  National  Gallery,  was  built 
in  1709  on  part  of  this  garden.  Some  twenty  years 
later,  before  it  was  purchased  by  Frederick,  Prince  of 
Wales,  the  grounds  belonging  to  the  house  were  laid  out 
by  Kent.  Until  Carlton  House  was  pulled  down  in 
1827,  therefore,  the  Mall  was  bounded  on  the  north  by 
choice  gardens.  Between  the  Mall  and  the  walls  of 
these  gardens  ran  the  "  Green  Walk,"  or  "  Duke 
Humphrey's  Walk,"  as  it  was  also  often  called.  The 
origin  of  the  latter  name  is  to  be  traced  to  old  St.  Paul's. 
The  monument  to  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  in  the 
centre  aisle  of  old  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  was  where  "  poore 
idlers  "  and  "  careless  mal-contents  "  congregated — 

"  Poets  of  Paules,  those  of  Duke  Humfrye's  messe 
That  feed  on  nought  but  graves  and  emptinesse." 


78      LONDON    PARKS    <^    GARDENS 

When  Duke  Humphrey's  Walk  in  St.  Paul's  was 
burnt  the  name  became  attached  to  the  walk  in  St. 
James's  Park,  where  idlers  also  sauntered.  Some  writers 
attribute  the  transference  of  the  name  to  the  fact  that 
the  arched  walk  under  the  trees  was  like  the  cathedral 
aisle.  Anyhow  the  name  clung  to  this  walk  in  the  Park 
from  1666  and  during  the  eighteenth  century. 

When  Carlton  House  became  the  centre  of  attraction 
the  Park  itself  was  in  a  very  neglected  state.  The  canal 
was  turbid,  the  grass  long,  and  the  seats  unpainted. 
How  long  it  would  have  remained  in  this  condition  is 
uncertain  had  not  a  new  impulse  of  gardening  possessed 
the  whole  nation,  and  once  more  it  was  resolved  to  alter 
the  entire  Park. 

The  rage  for  landscape  gardening  was  at  its  height. 
Capability  Brown  had  done  his  work  of  destruction,  and 
set  the  fashion  of  "  copying  nature,"  and  his  successors 
were  following  on  his  lines,  but  going  much  further  even 
than  Brown.  The  sight  of  a  straight  canal  had  become 
intolerable.  The  Serpentine  was  designed  when  the  idea 
that  it  might  be  possible  to  make  the  banks  of  artificial 
sheets  of  water  in  anything  but  a  perfectly  straight  line 
was  just  dawning,  but  the  canal  in  St.  James's  Park  was 
transformed  when  half  the  stiff  ponds  and  canals  in  the 
kingdom  had  been  twisted  and  turned  into  lakes  or 
meres.  Brown  had  had  a  hand  in  the  alterations  at  the 
time  Rosamund's  Pond  was  removed,  but  it  was  Eyton 
who  planned  and  executed  the  work  fifty  years  later.  It 
was  begun  in  1827,  and  a  contemporary  writer  praises 
the  result  as  "  the  best  obliteration  of  avenues "  that 
has  been  effected.  Although  he  owns  it  involved  "  a 
tremendous  destruction  of  fine  elms,"  he  is  lost  in 
admiration  of  the  "astounding  ingenuity"  which  "con- 


ST.   JAMES'S   &   GREEN    PARKS      79 

verted  a  Dutch  canal  into  a  fine  flowing  river,  with 
incurvated  banks,  terminated  at  one  end  by  a  planted 
island  and  at  the  other  by  a  peninsula."  A  permanent 
bridge  was  first  made  across  the  water  about  this  time. 
Previously  a  temporary  one  had  been  made  when  the 
Allied  Sovereigns  visited  London  in  18 14 — a  kind  of 
Chinese  design  by  Nash,  surmounted  by  a  pagoda  of 
seven  storeys.  It  was  this  flimsy  edifice  which  made 
Canova  say  the  thing  that  struck  him  most  in  England 
was  that  Waterloo  Bridge  was  the  work  of  a  private 
company,  while  this  bridge  was  put  up  by  the  Govern- 
ment. It  was  on  the  canal  in  St.  James's  Park  that  skates 
of  a  modern  type  first  appeared  in  London.  Bone  ones 
were  in  use  much  earlier  on  Moorfields.  Both  Evelyn  and 
Pepys  saw  the  new  pattern  first  in  the  Park  in  1662. 
Two  years  later  Pepys  notes  going  to  the  canal  with  the 
Duke  of  York,  "  where,  though  the  ice  was  broken  and 
dangerous,  yet  he  would  go  slide  upon  his  scates,  which 
I  did  not  like,  but  he  slides  very  well."  Just  before  the 
alterations  began,  and  the  complete  change  of  the  canal 
was  taken  in  hand,  the  Park  was  lighted  with  gas  lamps, 
an  innovation  which  caused  much  excitement.  At  the 
same  time  orders  were  issued  to  shut  the  gates  by  ten 
every  evening.  A  wit  on  this  occasion  wrote  the  follow- 
ing lines,  which  were  found  stuck  up  on  a  tree : — 

*'  The  trees  in  the  Park 

Are  illumined  with  gas, 
But  after  it's  dark 

No  creatures  can  pass. 

<'  Ye  sensible  wights 

Who  govern  our  fates, 
Extinguish  your  lights 
Or  open  your  gates." 


8o      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

The  same  lamps  inspired  another  poet,  who  wrote, 
just  before  the  destruction  of  the  avenues  took  place  : — 

**  Hail,  Royal  Park  !   what  various  charms  are  thine  ; 
Thy  patent  lamps  pale  Cynthia's  rays  outshine, 
Thy  limes  and  elms  with  grace  majestic  grow 
All  in  a  row." 

Yet  once  more  has  St.  James's  Park  been  subjected  to 
renovation.  The  work,  which  is  a  memorial  to  our  late 
beloved  Queen  Victoria,  is  not  yet  completed,  so  its 
description  must  be  imperfect.  The  design  aims  at 
drawing  together  the  several  quarters  of  the  Park 
towards  Buckingham  Palace  and  a  central  group  of 
statuary.  The  Mall  is  now  the  scene  of  ceaseless  traffic, 
and  the  sauntering  pedestrian  is  a  thing  of  the  past.  A 
wide  road  runs  at  right  angles  across  the  Green  Park, 
and  so  once  again  more  closely  associates  the  Upper  with 
the  Lower  St.  James's  Park.  Probably  the  greatest  praise 
of  the  alterations  would  be  to  say  that  Le  Notre  would 
have  approved  them.  They  seem  to  complete  the 
design  in  a  fitting  manner,  but  they  banish  once  and  for 
all  time,  the  semi-rural  character  which  for  so  many 
centuries  clung  to  the  Park.  The  design  includes  a 
series  of  formal  parterres  which  are  filled  with  bedding- 
out  plants  raised  in  Hyde  Park.  In  the  summer  of 
1906  they  were  planted  with  scarlet  geraniums  with  an 
edging  of  grasses  and  foliage  and  a  few  golden  privets, 
and  on  hot  July  days  there  were  many  people  ready  to 
pronounce  the  arrangement  as  extremely  bad  taste.  It 
seemed  a  reversion  to  the  days  when  a  startling  mass  of 
colour  was  the  only  effect  aimed  at.  As  they  appeared 
all  through  the  mild  October  days,  when  a  soft  foggy 
light  enveloped  the  world,  and  the  trees  looked  dark  and 


ST.   JAMES'S    &   GREEN    PARKS      8i 

dreary,  with  their  leaves,  devoid  of  autumn  tints,  still 
struggling  to  hold  on,  the  vivid  colouring  of  the  beds 
gave  a  very  different  impression.  The  charm  of  the  warm 
red  tone  against  the  cold  blue  mists  must  have  given  a 
sensation  of  pleasure  to  any  one  sensitive  to  such  contrasts. 


^         I  Jo  6 

A  Corner  of  the  Queen  Victoria  Memorial  Gardens, 

IN   FRONT  OF  BUCKINGHAM   PaLACE 

The  Park  in  spring  has  nothing  of  the  stiff,  early 
Victorian  gardening  left.  Under  the  trees  crocuses  raise 
their  dainty  heads,  as  cheerily  as  from  out  of  Alpine 
snows,  and  the  slopes  of  grass  spangled  with  a  "  host  of 
golden  daffodils  "  are  a  delight  to  all  beholders. 

F 


82   LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

The  palmy  days  of  St.  James's  Park  may  have  passed 
away — no  longer  is  the  fate  of  nations  and  the  happiness 
of  lives  decided  under  its  ancient  elms — but  those  days 
have  left  their  mark.  Every  path,  every  tree,  every 
green-sward,  could  tell  its  story.  The  Park  is  now 
more  beautiful  than  it  ever  was,  even  though  fashion  has 
deserted  it.  The  last  changes  are  but  one  more  link  in 
the  long  historic  chain.  It  brings  the  Park  of  the  Stuarts, 
the  Mall  of  the  Queen  Anne's  age  of  letters,  down  to  our 
own  great  Queen  and  the  days  of  Expansion  and  Empire. 
A  stroll  under  its  shady  trees  and  by  its  sparkling  water 
must  be  replete  with  suggestions  to  the  moralist,  with 
thoughts  to  the  poet,  and  with  an  inexpressible  charm  to 
the  ordinary  appreciative  Londoner. 


CHAPTER     IV 

REGENT'S    PARK 

When  Philomel  begins  to  sing 
The  grass  groivs  green  and  Jloivers  spring  ; 
Methinhs  it  is  a  pleasant  thing 
To  walk  on  Primrose  Hill. 

— Roxburgh   Ballads,  c,  1620. 


EGENT'S  PARK  has  had  but  a 
transitory  day  of  fashion,  and  his- 
tory has  not  crowded  it  with  asso- 
ciations like  the  other  Royal  Parks. 
It  is  the  largest  and  one  of  the  most 
beautiful,  yet  there  is  something 
cold  and  less  attractive  about  it. 
In  spring,  with  its  wealth  of  thorn 
trees,  it  has  a  delightfully  rural  appearance,  and  it  pos- 
sesses many  charms  on  close  acquaintance.  Its  history 
as  a  Royal  Park  is  as  ancient  as  that  of  Hyde  Park 
or  St.  James's,  but  it  remained  a  distant  country  sport- 
ing estate,  and  only  assumed  the  form  of  a  Park,  in 
the  modern  sense  of  the  word,  less  than  a  hundred 
years  ago. 

In  the  dim  distance  of  Domesday  it  formed  part  of 
the  manor  of  Tybourne.  Later  on  the  manor  became 
Marylebone  or  Mary  le  Bourne,  the  Church  of  St.  Mary 
by  the  Burn,  the  brook  in  question  being  the  Tyburn. 

The   manor   in   Domesday   is   described    as   part   of  the 

83 


84      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

lands  belonging  to  the  Abbey  of  Barking  in  Essex.  In 
the  thirteenth  century  it  was  held  by  Robert  de  Vere, 
and  passed  by  descent  through  his  daughter  to  the 
Earls  of  Arundel.  Later  on  the  manor  was  divided, 
and  a  fourth  share  came  to  Henry  V.  as  heir  to  the 
Earls  of  Derby.  The  greater  part  of  the  manor  was 
bought  by  Thomas  Hobson,  and  his  son,  who  was  Lord 
Mayor  in  1544,  exchanged  it  with  Henry  VIII.  for  some 
church  lands  elsewhere.  So  it  became  part  of  the  royal 
hunting-ground,  and  the  same  enactment  concerning 
the  preservation  of  game  applied  to  Marylebone  Park, 
situated  within  the  manor,  as  to  Hyde  Park.  Queen 
Elizabeth  leased  part  of  the  manor  to  a  certain  Edward 
Forset,  and  James  I.  sold  him  all  the  manor  except  the 
part  known  as  Marylebone  Park,  now  Regent's  Park. 
It  was  again  sold  by  the  grandson  of  Edward  Forset 
to  John  Holies,  Duke  of  Newcastle,  and  passed  to  his 
daughter,  who  married  Edward  Harley,  Earl  of  Oxford, 
and  through  their  daughter,  who  married  the  second 
Earl  of  Portland,  to  the  Bentinck  family.  The  Park 
has  always  remained  Crown  property,  although  it  has 
frequently  been  let  by  the  reigning  sovereign.  Charles  I. 
granted  it  to  Sir  G.  Strode  and  J.  Wandesford  as  a 
payment  of  a  debt  of  £2^1^  for  arms  and  ammuni- 
tion. It  was  sold  by  Cromwell  with  all  the  other 
royal  lands,  but  after  the  Restoration  it  went  back 
to  its  former  holders  till  the  debt  was  discharged, 
and  after  that  to  various  other  tenants.  It  was  on 
the  expiration  of  a  lease  to  the  Duke  of  Portland  in 
1 8 1 1  that  the  laying  out  of  the  Park  in  its  present 
form  commenced. 

During    the   early   period    incidents   connected   with 
it   are  meagre.      It  is  for  the  most  part  only  in  royal 


REGENT'S    PARK  85 

accounts  that  references  to  Marylebone  Park  are  found, 
and  they  are  merely  a  bare  statement  of  facts.  But 
that  hunting-parties,  with  all  the  show  and  splendour 
attending  them,  took  place  frequently,  is  certain.  Among 
the  Loseley  MSS.  occur,  in  1554,  instructions  to  Sir 
Thomas  Cawarden,  as  "  Master  of  the  Tents  and 
Toiles,"  to  superintend  the  making  of  "  certaine  banquit- 
ing  houses  of  Bowes  [  =  boughs]  and  other  devices  of 
pleasure."  One  of  these  was  made  in  "  Marybone 
Parke,"  and  a  minute  description  is  given.  It  was 
40  feet  long,  and  "  wrought  by  tymber,  brick,  and 
lyme,  with  their  raunges  and  other  necessary  utensyles 
therto  insident,  and  to  the  like  accustomed."  Also 
three  "  standinges "  were  made  at  the  same  time,  "  all 
of  tymber  garnished  with  boughes  and  flowers,  every 
[one]  of  them  conteynenge  in  length  10  foote  and  in 
bredth  8  foote,  which  houses  and  standings  were  so 
edified,  repaired,  garnished,  decked,  and  fynyshed  against 
the  Marshall  Saint  Andrewes  comynge  thethere  by  speciale 
and  straight  comandement,  as  well  of  the  late  King 
as  his  counsell  to  Sir  Tho^'  Cawarden,  Knt.  M"^'  of 
the  said  Office  of  Revels ;  and  Lawrence  Bradshaw, 
Surveior  of  the  King's  works,  exhibited  for  the  same 
w''  earnest  charge  done,  wrought  and  attended  between 
the  27th  of  June  and  the  2  of  August  in  the  said  year" 
[4th  of  Edward  VI.].  Employed  on  the  above  works 
for  22  days  at  all  hours,  a  space  to  eat  and  drink 
excepted,  "Carpenters,  bricklayers,  id.  the  hour; 
labourers,  id.  p.  hour;  plasterers,  i  id.  a  day;  painters, 
yd.  and  6d.  a  day."  "Charges  for  cutting  boughs  in 
the  wood  at  Hyde  Park  for  trimming  the  banquetting 
house,  gathering  rushes,  flags,  and  ivy  ;  painters,  taylors 
for    sewing    roof,    etc.,    basket    makers    working    upon 


86   LONDON  PARKS  &    GARDENS 

windows,  total  cost,  £i6g,  ys.  8d."  Only  about  half  of 
this  total  was  due  to  the  work  in  Marylebone,  as  a  similar 
pavilion,  and  three  other  "  standings,"  were  made  in 
Hyde  Park  at  the  same  time. 

Hall,  the  chronicler  of  Henry  VIII, 's  time,  inveighs 
against  the  fashion  of  making  these  sumptuous  banquet- 
ing houses.  They  were  not  only  a  regal  amusement, 
but  the  citizens  built  in  their  suburban  gardens  "  many 
faire  Summer  houses  .  .  .  some  of  them  like  Mid- 
summer Pageants,  with  Towers,  Turrets,  and  Chimney 
tops,  not  so  much  for  use  or  profit,  as  for  shew  and 
pleasure,  and  bewraying  the  vanity  of  men's  mindes, 
much  unlike  to  the  disposition  of  the  ancient  Citizens, 
who  delighted  in  building  of  Hospitals  and  Almes- 
houses  for  the  poore."  There  stood  in  Marylebone 
parish  a  banqueting  house  where  the  Lord  Mayor  and 
aldermen  dined  when  they  inspected  the  conduits  of  the 
Tybourne.  On  one  occasion  they  hunted  a  hare  before 
dinner,  and  after,  "  they  went  to  hunt  the  fox.  There 
was  a  great  cry  for  a  mile,  and  at  length  the  hounds 
killed  him  at  the  end  of  St.  Giles."  During  this  run 
the  hunt  must  have  skirted  the  royal  preserves  of 
Marylebone.  In  Elizabeth's  time  a  hunting-party  on 
3rd  February  1600  is  recorded,  in  which  the  "Am- 
bassador from  the  Emperor  of  Russia  and  the  other 
Muscovites  rode  through  the  City  of  London  to 
Marylebone  Park,  and  there  hunted  at  their  pleasure, 
and  shortly  after  returned  homeward." 

Marylebone  was  a  retired  spot  for  duels,  and  many 
took  place  there  down  to  the  time  when  duelling  ceased. 
The  quarrel  which  led  to  one  in  Elizabeth's  reign  is 
most  typical  of  that  age.  Sir  Charles  Blount,  after- 
wards   Earl    of    Devonshire,     handsome    and    dashing, 


REGENTS    PARK  87 

distinguished  himself  in  the  lists,  and  won  the  approba- 
tion of  Queen  Elizabeth.  She  presented  him  with  a 
chessman  in  gold,  which  he  fastened  on  his  arm  with 
a  crimson  ribbon.  This  aroused  the  jealousy  of  Essex, 
who  said  with  scorn,  "  Now  I  perceive  that  every  fool 
must  have  a  favour."  Whereupon  Blount  challenged 
him.  They  met  in  Marylebone  Park,  and  Essex  was 
disarmed  and  wounded  in  the  thigh. 

In  Mary's  time  the  Park  witnessed  a  warlike  scene 

in   connection   with   one    of   the   organised   attempts   to 

dethrone  the  Queen.      The  indictment  of  Sir  Nicholas 

Throgmorton    for    high    treason,    because    he,   with   Sir 

Thomas  Wyatt  and   others,   "conspired   to  depose  and 

destroy  the  Queen,"  states  that  "  the  said  Sir  Nicholas 

plotted    to    take   and    hold    the    Tower,    levy    war    in 

Kent,  Devonshire,  etc.,  and,  with  Sir  Henry  Isley  and 

others,    on    26    January    1554,    rose    with    2000    men, 

marched  from  Kent  to  Southwark,  and  by  Brentford  and 

Marylebone  Park  to  London,  the  Queen  being  then  at 

Westminster,  but  were  overthrown  by  her  army."     The 

incidents  which  centre  round  this  Park  are  few.     Even 

in  the  accounts  of  all  the  royal  lands  it  does  not  often 

occur.       In     1607    one    item    in    the    Domestic    State 

Papers,   a  list  of  nine   parks,  from  each  of  which  four 

bucks    were    to    be    taken,    includes    Hyde    Park,    but 

Marylebone    is    not    mentioned,    and    in    orders    to    the 

keepers  it  does  not  often  occur. 

During  the  Commonwealth  it  comes  more  into 
notice,  from  the  sad  fact  that  it  was  then  sold  and  dis- 
parked,  and  the  trees  cut  down.  When  Cromwell  sold 
it  to  ''John  Spencer  of  London,  gent.,"  the  proceeds 
were  settled  on  Col.  Thomas  Harrison's  regiment  of 
dragoons    for    their    pay.     The    existing    Ranger,    John 


88      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Carey,  was  turned  out,  and  Sir  John  Ipsley  put  in  his 
place.    The  price  given  for  the  Park  was  ;^  13,2  15,  6s.  8d., 
which  included  ^130  for  deer  and  £i'j'j^  for  timber, 
exclusive    of   2976    trees   which    were    marked   for   the 
Royal   Navy.     Cromwell   probably  knew   the  Park  and 
its    advantages    well,    as    some    years    before,    when    he 
was   a   boy,    his   uncle   had   had    permission   to  hunt  in 
any  of  the  royal  forests.      The  warrant  is  dated   15  th 
June    1604,   *'  to  the  lieutenants,  wardens,  and  keepers 
of  the  forests,  chases,   and  parks,  to   permit  Sir  Oliver 
Cromwell,  Knt.,  Gentleman  of  the  Privy  Chamber,   to 
hunt  where  he  shall  think  fit."     The  work  of  hewing 
the  timber  began  at  once.     On  October   19,   1649,  ^^e 
Navy    Commissioner    was    instructed    to     "  repair    the 
crane  at  Whitehall  for  boating  timber,  which  is  to  go 
from  Marylebone  Park  to  the  yards  to  build  frigates." 
Again,    Sir    Henry    Mildmay  was    ordered    to    "  confer 
with  Mr.    Carter,   Surveyor  of  Works,  for   the   timber 
in    Marylebone    Park  to   be  brought  through   Scotland 
Yard,  to  be  boated  there  for  use  of  the  navy."     Crom- 
well converted  the  Park  to   other  uses,  as  in  June  the 
same  year  orders  were  given  to  put  to  grass  in  Mary- 
lebone Park  all  the  artillery  horses  "  bought  by  Captain 
Tomlins  for  Ireland  till  Monday  week."     That  a  number 
were  turned  out  there  for  a  time  is  clear  from  the  further 
warrant,   dated  July    12,   to  "  permit  William  Yarvell, 
Carriage   Master,    to    put    all    the    horses   provided    for 
Ireland,  which  cannot  be  accommodated  in  Marylebone 
Park,  into  Hyde  Park  to  graze."     No  doubt  they  found 
excellent  pasture,  in  spite  of  the  game.     Still,  the  deer 
must  have  been  fairly  numerous,  considering  the  price 
paid   for   those    left   when    the   Park   was    sold.       One 
hundred  of  the  "  best  deer "   were  first  ordered  to   be 


REGENT'S    PARK  89 

removed  from  there  to  St.  James's  Park,  *'  Colonel  Pride 
to  see  to  the  business." 

At  the  Restoration  the  former  tenants  were  reinstated 
until  the  debt  was  discharged,  and  John  Carey  was  com- 
pensated for  his  loss  of  the  rangership ;  but  the  Park 
was  never  re-stocked  with  deer.  It  is  supposed  that  the 
Queens,  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  sometimes  resided  at  the 
Manor  House  belonging  to  the  Manor,  which  stood  at 
the  south  side  of  what  is  now  Marylebone  Road,  and 
was  built  by  Henry  VIII.  A  drawing  of  the  house  in 
1700  exists,  and  it  is  not  the  same  as  Oxford  House, 
with  which  it  has  sometimes  been  confused,  belonging  to 
Lord  Oxford,  which  contained  the  celebrated  Harleian 
collection  of  MSS.  Henry  VIII.'s  Manor  House  was 
pulled  down  in  1790.  It  is  not  until  after  that  date  that 
anything  further  has  to  be  recorded  of  the  Park;  until  then 
it  remained  let  out  as  farms.  In  1793  Mr.  White,  architect 
to  the  Duke  of  Portland,  the  tenant  of  the  Park  from 
the  Crown,  approached  Mr.  Fordyce,  the  Surveyor- 
General,  with  his  ideas  and  plans  for  the  improvement 
of  the  whole  of  the  area.  During  the  previous  fifty 
years  the  streets  and  squares  between  Oxford  Street  and 
Marylebone  had  been  growing  up.  Foley  House,  a  large 
building,  stood  on  the  site  of  the  present  Langham 
Hotel ;  and  in  the  lease  by  which  the  land  was  held 
from  the  Duke  of  Portland,  it  was  covenanted  that  no 
buildings  should  obstruct  the  view  of  Marylebone  Park 
from  this  house.  When,  in  1772,  the  Brothers  Adam 
designed  Portland  Place,  they  made  it  the  entire  width 
of  Foley  House,  so  that  the  agreement  was  fulfilled  to 
the  letter.  In  those  days  the  street  ended  where  No,  8 
Portland  Place  now  stands  ;  then  came  the  railings  which 
enclosed  Marylebone  Fields,  with  its  buttercup  meadows 


90      LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

and  country  lanes  and  hedgerows.  White's  idea  com- 
mended itself  to  Fordyce,  and  he  approached  the  Treasury 
on  the  subject.  The  total  area,  according  to  the  survey 
in  1794,  was  543  ac.  17  p.  This  was  disposed  chiefly 
between  three  farms  of  about  288,  133,  and  117  acres 
respectively.  From  the  first  all  the  plans  embraced 
extensive  buildings,  as  well  as  a  proportion  of  park. 
Inspired  by  Fordyce,  the  Treasury  offered  a  prize,  not 
exceeding  _^iooo,  for  the  best  design,  and  several  were 
submitted.  Fordyce  aimed  at  something  between  the 
most  extreme  votaries  of  the  landscape  school  and  the 
older,  debased,  formal  styles — a  compromise  which  Loudon 
was  at  that  time  trying  to  bring  into  vogue.  A  "  union 
of  the  ancient  and  modern  styles  of  planting,"  he  called  it, 
which  led  by  stages  to  the  Italian  parterres  and  brilliant 
bedding  out  of  the  early  Victorian  gardens.  Fordyce 
did  not  live  to  see  any  plan  put  into  execution.  At  his 
death  the  Surveyor-General  of  Land  Revenues  and  the 
Commissioners  of  Woods  and  Forests  were  amalgamated, 
and  Leverton  and  Chawner,  architects  to  the  former,  and 
Nash,  architect  to  the  latter,  submitted  designs — Nash's 
being  eventually  accepted.  The  other  design  cut  up  the 
whole  ground  into  ornamental  villas  with  pleasure 
grounds,  with  a  sort  of  village  green  or  central  square, 
with  a  church  in  the  middle,  and  a  site  for  a  market  and 
barracks.  White's  views  were  more  like  Nash's  in  some 
respects,  as  he  had  artificial  water  and  a  drive  round  the 
Park.  The  lease  held  by  the  Duke  of  Portland  fell  in, 
in  18  r  I,  and  soon  after  the  work  of  carrying  out  Nash's 
design  was  begun  by  James  Morgan.  The  Regent's 
Park  Canal  was  included  in  the  same  plan,  and  begun  in 
I  8  12  and  finished  in  1820.  Its  length  from  Paddington 
to  Limehouse  is  8|-  miles,  and  the  total  fall  84  feet. 


< 

PL, 
(/) 

H 
Z 

o 


;  gerow^ 


V-,  and  }. 


> 

CO 

H 

o 

w 


> 


11    the    first  all    tb  ed 

H-  .      i    proper 

e,  tnc    ;  fered   a 

. ''-  the   .   ..  ..,  and  st   .:^ 

imed  at  something  between  the 

he  landscape  school  and  the 

which  Loudon 


,  'hich  led  by  stage 

out  of  the   cariy    ViCioiuu 

:.,M  live  to  see  any  plan  put  into 

■■  h   the  Surveyor-General  of  Land 

ommissioners  of  Woods  and  ! 

^nd  Lcvcrton  ar. 


s  and  the 

<:nated, 

'»t  tormer,  and 

•  -:^r,^s — Nash's 

-;i  cut  up  the 

tal    villas   with    pleasure 

cen  or  central ' 


Pari 
181. 
to  Limcnoi. 


REGENT'S    PARK  91 

Although  the  planting  and  levelling  began  in  18 12, 
the  buildings  rose  up  slowly.  Of  the  villas  in  the  Park 
only  two  were  built  in  1820,  the  rent  demanded  for  the 
ground  being  extremely  high.  But  two  or  three  years 
later  the  whole  thing  was  more  or  less  as  it  is  now,  so  far 
as  the  general  outline  and  buildings  are  concerned.  The 
cost  by  May  1826  was  ;^i, 533, 582,  and  the  estimated 
probable  revenue  ;^36,330.  The  Prince  Regent  took 
the  greatest  interest  in  the  proceedings,  and  Nash's  design 
included  a  site  for  a  palace  for  him,  though  even  con- 
temporary writers  condemned  the  suggestion,  as  the 
situation  was  damp — *'  the  soil  was  clay,  .  .  .  and  the  view 
bad."  It  was  only  natural  that  the  Park  should  hence- 
forth become  the  Regent's,  and  not  Marylebone  Park, 
and  the  "  new  street"  to  connect  it  with  Carlton  House 
be  called  Regent  Street. 

It  is  difficult  to  judge  Regent's  Park  with  an  un- 
prejudiced eye.  The  exaggerated  praise  it  called  forth 
when  just  completed  is  only  equalled  by  the  unmeasured 
censure  of  the  next  generation.  Of  the  houses  which  sur- 
round it  the  following  are  two  descriptions.  The  first,  in 
1855,  calls  them  "highly-embellished  terraces  of  houses, 
in  which  the  Doric  and  Ionic,  the  Corinthian,  and  even 
the  Tuscan  orders  have  been  employed  with  ornate  effect, 
aided  by  architectural  sculpture."  Fifty  years  later  the 
same  houses  are  summed  up  with  very  different  epithets  : 
"  Most  of  the  ugly  terraces  which  surround  it  exhibit 
all  the  worst  follies  of  the  Grecian  architectural  mania 
which  disgraced  the  beginning  of  this  century "  !  It 
may  not  be  a  style  which  commends  itself  to  modern 
taste,  but  one  thing  is  certain,  that  having  embarked  on 
classical  architecture  it  was  best  to  stick  to  it  and  com- 
plete the  whole.      It  is  as  much  a  bit  of  history,  and  as 


92      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

typical  of  the  age,  as  Elizabethan  or  Tudor  architecture 
is  of  theirs,  and  as  such  it  is  best  to  treat  Regent's  Park,  as 
an  interesting  example  of  early  nineteenth-century  taste. 

This  ground  was  country  when  building  was  begun, 
and  when  one  thinks  of  the  streets  and  crescents  that 
grow  up  when  the  country  touches  the  town,  and  the  in- 
congruous ugliness  of  most  of  them,  there  is  much  to 
be  said  for  the  substantial  uniformity  of  Regent's  Park. 
What  can  be  argued  from  the  surroundings  of  the  other 
parks?  Would  Regent's  Park  have  been  improved  by 
the  erection  of  rows  of  houses  of  the  Queen  Anne's 
Mansion  type  ?  One  cannot  help  wondering  what  Stowe 
would  have  thought  of  such  a  production,  when  he 
instances  "a  remarkable  punishment  of  Pride  in  high 
buildings,"  how  a  man  who  built  himself  a  tower  in 
Lime  Street,  to  overlook  his  neighbours,  was  very  soon 
"  tormented  with  gouts  in  his  joynts,  of  his  hands  and 
legs" — that  he  could  go  no  "further  than  he  was  led, 
much  lesse  was  he  able  to  climbe "  his  tower !  What 
retribution  would  he  have  thought  sufficiently  severe  for 
the  perpetrators  of  Park  Row  Buildings,  New  York,  with 
their  thirty-two  storeys  ? 

Anyhow,  Regent's  Park  was  welcomed  by  the  gene- 
ration who  watched  it  grow.  A  writer  in  1823  says: 
*'  When  first  we  saw  that  Marylebone  Fields  were  en- 
closed, and  that  the  hedgerow  walks  which  twined  through 
them  were  gradually  being  obliterated  and  the  whole 
district  artificially  laid  out,  ...  we  underwent  a  painful 
feeling  or  two.  ...  A  few  years,  however,  have  elapsed, 
and  we  are  not  only  reconciled  to  the  change  alluded  to, 
but  rejoice  in  it.  A  noble  Park  is  rapidly  rising  up,  and 
a  vast  space,  close  to  the  metropolis,  not  only  preserved 
from  the  encroachment  of  mean  buildings,  but  laid  out 


REGENT'S    PARK  93 

with  groves,  lakes,  and  villas,  .  .  .  while  through  the 
place  there  is  a  winding  road,  which  commands  at 
every  turn  some  fresh  feature  of  an  extensive  country 
prospect."  This  enthusiast  winds  up  by  saying,  "  We 
do  not  envy  the  apathy  of  the  Englishman  who  can 
walk  through  these  splendid  piles  without  feeling  his 
heart  swell  with  national  pride."  We  may  smile  at  such 
high-sounding  language,  but,  after  all,  it  was  an  innocent 
form  for  national  pride  to  take. 

The  special  feature  which  the  plan  of  the  Park  em- 
braced, was  the  villas,  standing  in  their  own  pleasure 
grounds.  These  were  all  built  in  the  same  Grecian  style 
— most  of  them  designed  by  Decimus  Burton,  who  was 
also  the  architect  of  Cornwall  Terrace,  the  only  one  not 
by  Nash.  St.  Dunstan's  Villa,  now  belonging  to  Lord 
Aldenham,  and  containing  his  precious  library,  was  his 
work.  It  was  built  by  the  Marquis  of  Hertford,  and 
the  name  is  taken  from  the  two  giant  wooden  figures  of 
Gog  and  Magog,  which  formerly  stood  by  St.  Dunstan's 
Church  in  Fleet  Street.  They  had  been  placed  there  in 
1 67 1,  and  struck  the  hours  on  a  large  clock  (the  work 
of  Thomas  Harrys),  one  of  the  curiosities  of  the  City. 
It  was  with  reference  to  them  that  Cowper's  lines  on  a 
feeble,  uninspired  poet  were  written  : — 

"When  Labour  and  when  Dullness,  club  in  hand, 
Like  the  two  figures  of  St.  Dunstan's  stand, 
Beating  alternately,  in  measured  time, 
The  clock-work  tintinabulum  of  rhyme, 
Exact  and  regular  the  sounds  will  be, 
But  such  mere  quarter  strokes  are  not  for  me." 

Lord  Hertford  used  to  be  taken  to  see  them  as  a 
child,  and  had  a  child's  longing  to  possess  the  monsters. 
Unlike   most   childish   dreams,   he  was   able,  when  the 


94      LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

church  was  rebuilt  in  1832,  to  realise  it  and  to  purchase 
the  figures,  and  remove  them  to  strike  the  hours  in 
his  new  villa.  St.  John's  Lodge  is  another  of  these 
detached  villas,  with  a  fascinating  garden,  built  by 
Burton,  for  Sir  Francis  Henry  Goldsmid  ;  and  also  in 
the  inner  circle  there  is  South  Villa,  with  an  observatory, 
erected  in  1837  by  Mr.  George  Bishop,  from  which 
various  stars  and  asteroids  were  discovered  by  Dawes 
and  Hinde. 

The  most  interesting  of  the  houses  in  the  park  is 
St.  Katharine's  Lodge,  not  from  any  special  beauty  of 
its  own,  but  from  the  sad  association  of  its  history. 
On  the  east  of  the  road  which  encircles  the  Park  is 
St.  Katharine's  Hospital,  built  by  A.  Poynter,  a  pupil 
of  Nash,  in  1827,  when  the  "act  of  barbarism"  of  re- 
moving the  Hospital  from  the  East  End  was  committed. 
The  home  of  the  Hospital,  with  its  church  and  alms- 
houses, was  close  to  the  Tower,  and  after  a  peaceful 
existence  of  nearly  seven  hundred  years  it  was  oom- 
pletely  swept  away  to  make  room  for  more  docks. 
There  is  nothing  to  redeem  the  crude  look  of  useless- 
ness  that  the  new  buildings  in  Regent's  Park  present. 
They  seem  out  of  place,  and  as  if  stranded  there  by 
accident.  Even  thirty  years  after  their  removal  an  official 
report  on  the  revenues  of  the  hospital  shows  some  signs  of 
repentance.  The  writers  sum  up  the  increased  income, 
then  about  ;^  11,000  a  year,  and  wonder  if  in  this  far- 
away spot  it  is  being  put  to  the  best  uses ;  and  the 
report  even  goes  so  far  as  to  suggest  its  restoration  to 
the  populous  East  End,  where  the  recipients  of  the 
charity  would  spend  their  lives  in  the  cure  of  souls,  or  as 
nurses  and  mission-women  among  the  poor.  Since  then, 
an  improvement  has  set  in  as  it  has  become  the  Central 


REGENT'S    PARK  95 

House  for  Nurses  for  the  Poor,  known  as  the  Jubilee 
Nurses,  as  the  funds  to  provide  them  were  raised  by  the 
women  of  England  as  a  Jubilee  Gift  to  Queen  Victoria. 

The  Hospital  of  St.  Katharine  was  founded  by  Queen 
Matilda,  "  wife  to  King  Stephen,  by  licence  of  the  Prior 
and  Convent  of  the  Holy  Trinity  in  London,  on  whose 
ground  she  founded  it.  Elianor  the  Queene,  wife  to 
King  Edward  the  First,  a  second  Foundresse,  appointed 
to  be  there,  one  Master,  three  Brethren  Chaplaines  and 
three  Sisters,  ten  poore  women,  and  six  poore  clerkes. 
She  gave  to  them  the  Manor  of  Clarton  in  Wiltshire 
and  Upchurch  in  Kent,  etc.  Queene  Philip,  wife  to 
King  Edward  the  Third,  1351,  founded  a  Chauntry 
there,  and  gave  to  that  Hospital  tenne  pound  land  by 
yeere  ;  it  was  of  late  time  [1598]  called  a  free  Chappell,  a 
Colledge  and  an  Hospital  for  poore  sisters.  The  Quire 
which  (of  late  yeares)  was  not  much  inferior  to  that  of 
Pauls,  was  dissolved  by  Doctor  Wilson,  a  late  Master 
there."     Such  is  Stowe's  account  of  the  foundation. 

Even  in  those  days  the  district  was  becoming  crowded, 
"  pestered  with  small  Tenements,"  chiefly  owing  to  the 
influx  from  Calais,  Hammes,  and  Guisnes  when  those 
places  were  lost  in  Mary's  reign.  Many,  "wanting 
Habitation,"  were  allowed  a  "  Place  belonging  to  St. 
Katharine's."  The  curious  name,  "  Hangman's  Gains," 
in  that  locality  was  said  to  be  derived  from  a  corruption 
of  two  of  the  places  the  refugees  came  from. 

In  Henry  VIII. 's  time  a  Guild  or  Fraternity  was 
"  founded  in  the  Church  of  this  Hospital  of  St.  Katharine 
to  the  Honour  of  St.  Barbara."  Katharine  of  Aragon 
and  Henry  VIII.  and  Cardinal  Wolsey  belonged  to  it, 
and  many  other  "  honourable  persons."  The  object  was 
to  secure  a  home  for  any  "  Brother  or  Sister  who  fell  into 


96      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Decay  of  worldly  Goods  as  by  Sekenes  or  Hurt  by  the 
Warrys,  or  upon  Land  or  See,  or  by  any  other  means." 
Those  belonging  to  the  Fraternity  who  had  paid  the  full 
sum  due,  namely  lOs.  4d.,  in  "  money,  plate,  or  any  other 
honest  stufe,"  were  entitled  to  fourteen  pence  a  week, 
house-room  and  bedding,  "  and  a  woman  to  wash  his 
clothes  and  to  dresse  his  mete  ;  and  so  to  continue  Yere 
by  Yere  and  Weke  by  Weke  durynge  his  Lyfe,"  like  a 
modern  benefit  society.  The  fine  old  church  contained 
many  monuments,  some  of  which  were  transferred  to  the 
new  church  when  the  removal  took  place.  Among  them 
the  effigy  of  John  Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter,  and  one  of 
his  wives,  dating  from  1447,  reposes  under  a  fine  canopy. 
The  stalls  and  pulpit  of  the  sixteenth  century  were  also 
brought  to  the  new  building.  Thus  shorn  of  all  its 
associations  and  all  its  beauty,  the  foundation  remains, 
like  a  flower  ruthlessly  transplanted  too  late  to  take  root 
and  regain  its  former  charm. 

The  Master's  house  makes  a  most  delightful  residence, 
and  has  always  been  let.  Mr.  Marley,  the  present  tenant, 
who  has  filled  the  house  with  works  of  art,  has  made  a 
very  charming  garden  also,  more  like  an  Italian  than  an 
English  villa  garden,  as  the  view  reproduced  in  this 
volume  testifies. 

Three  Societies  occupy  pieces  of  ground  within  the 
Park.  The  most  ancient  and  least  well  known  is  the 
Toxophilite.  Archery  has  for  many  hundred  years  been 
practised  by  the  citizens  of  London.  The  ground  chosen 
for  shooting  was  chiefly  near  Islington,  Hoxton,  and 
Shoreditch.  To  encourage  the  use  of  bows  and  arrows 
Henry  VIII.  ordered  Sir  Christopher  Morris,  Master  of 
Ordnance,  to  form  the  "  Fraternitye  or  Guylde  of  Saint 
George"  about  1537,  and  these  archers  used  to  shoot  in 


REGENT'S    PARK  97 

Spital  Fields.  About  the  time  of  the  Spanish  Armada 
the  Honourable  Artillery  Company  was  formed,  which 
possessed  a  company  of  archers,  and  for  over  two  hundred 
years  archery  was  kept  alive  by  this  corps,  and,  follow- 
ing them,  by  the  Finsbury  Archers.  Just  at  the  time 
when  the  corps  was  abolished  Sir  Ashton  Lever  formed 
the  Toxophilite  Society  in  178 1,  and  the  archers  of  the 
Honourable  Artillery  Company  became  merged  in  the 
new  Society,  which  then  shot  on  Blackheath.  George  IV. 
belonged  to  it,  and  it  henceforth  became  the  Royal  Toxo- 
philite Society,  and  settled  on  ground  given  to  it  in 
Regent's  Park  in  1834,  where  it  remains,  as  the  lineal 
descendant  of  the  old  historic  Guild  of  Archers.  It 
possesses  several  interesting  relics ;  a  shield  given  by 
Queen  Mary,  and  silver  cups  of  the  Georgian  period, 
besides  a  valuable  collection  of  bows  and  arrows.  The 
hall  where  the  members  meet,  built  when  the  Society 
moved  to  Regent's  Park,  and  added  to  since,  has 
beneath  it  some  curious  cellars  with  underground 
passages  branching  off  from  them,  which  it  has  been 
suggested  may  have  been  part  of  the  outhouses  belonging 
to  the  Royal  Manor  House,  which  stood  not  far  off,  on 
ground  now  outside  the  Park.  The  large  iron  hooks 
that  were  until  recently  in  the  cellar  walls,  seemed  sugges- 
tive of  venison  from  the  Park  for  the  royal  table.  The 
ground  of  the  Society  is  suitably  laid  out,  with  a  fine  sunk 
lawn  for  the  archery  practice.  By  an  arrangement  with 
the  Toxophilite  Society,  "  the  Skating  Club  "  have  their 
own  pavihon,  and  the  lawn  is  flooded  during  the  winter 
for  their  use.  There  is  so  much  talk  about  the  change 
of  the  climate  of  England,  and  of  the  so-called  old- 
fashioned  winters,  that  the  record  kept  by  this  Skating 
Club   since   its  foundation   in    1830   of  the   number  of 

G 


98      LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

skating  days  in  each  winter  is  instructive.  Taking  the 
periods  often  years  during  the  first  decade,  1 830-40,  there 
was  an  average  of  10.2  skating  days  per  winter.  In 
1833-34  there  were  none,  in  1837-38  thirty-seven  days. 
Between  1850-60  the  average  was  only  8.5,  while  the  last 
ten  years  of  the  century  it  was  16.8.  It  is  difficult  to 
see  how  any  argument  could  be  deduced  from  such 
figures  in  favour  of  the  excess  of  cold  in  the  good  old 
days  !  When  the  freezing  of  the  Thames  is  quoted  to 
prove  the  case,  people  forget  that  the  Thames  has  com- 
pletely changed.  The  narrow  piers  of  old  London 
Bridge  no  longer  get  stopped  with  ice-floes,  and  the 
current  is  much  more  rapid  now  that  the  whole  length  is 
properly  embanked.  In  the  days  when  coaches  plied  from 
Westminster  to  the  Temple  Stairs  as  in  1684,  or  when 
people  dwelt  on  the  Thames  in  tents  for  weeks  in  1 740, 
all  the  low  land  was  flooded  and  the  stream  wider  and 
more  sluggish.  The  believers  in  the  hard  winters  gene- 
rally maintain  the  springs  were  warmer  than  now,  May 
Day  more  like  what  poets  pictured,  even  allowing  the 
eleven  days  later  for  our  equivalent.  But  in  16 14  there 
was  snow  a  foot  deep  in  April,  and  those  who  went  in 
search  of  flowers  on  May  Day  only  got  snowflakes.  In 
1698,  on  May  8th,  there  was  a  deep  fall  of  snow  all  over 
England,  and  many  other  instances  might  be  quoted.  So 
it  seems,  though  people  may  grumble  now,  their  ancestors 
were  no  better  ofl: 

In  the  centre  of  the  ground  is  the  Royal  Botanical 
Society  of  London,  founded  in  1839.  At  one  time  the 
Society  was  greatly  in  fashion,  and  the  membership  was 
eagerly  sought  after.  No  doubt  such  will  be  the  case 
again,  although  for  some  reason  the  immense  advance  in 
gardening  during  the  last  ten  years  has  not  met  with  the 


REGENT'S    PARK  99 

response  looked  for  from  this  Society,  and  hence  a  certain 
decrease  instead  of  increase  in  popularity — a  phase  which 
can  but  be  transitory.  The  botanical  portions  of  the 
grounds  illustrative  of  the  natural  orders  were  arranged 
by  James  de  Carle  Sowerby,  son  of  the  author  of  the 
well-known  "  English  Botany,"  assisted  by  Dr.  Frederick 
Farre  and  others,  and  the  ornamental  part  of  the  garden, 
with  the  lake,  by  Marnoch.  The  designs  were  severely 
criticised  by  Loudon  in  the  first  instance,  who  pro- 
phesied failure  to  the  garden,  but  was  well  satisfied 
when  the  modified  plans  were  announced.  Some  of 
the  earliest  flower  shows  in  the  modern  sense  were 
held  there.  And  this  Society  was  the  pioneer  in  ex- 
hibitions of  spring  flowers.  The  first  was  held  in  1862, 
and  was  quite  a  novel  departure,  although  summer  and 
autumn  floral  shows  had  been  instituted  for  more  than 
thirty  years.  These  exhibitions  and  fetes  became  very 
fashionable,  and  people  flocked  to  them,  and  numbers 
joined  the  Society.  It  is  always  diflicult  to  combine 
two  objects,  and  this  is  the  problem  the  Botanical  Society 
now  has  to  face.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  keep  up 
the  Botanical  side  and  at  the  same  time  make  a  bid  for 
popular  public  support  by  turning  the  grounds  partly 
into  a  Tea  Garden.  Now  that  gardening  is  more  the 
fashion  than  it  has  ever  been,  it  is  sad  to  see  this  ancient 
Society  taking  a  back  place  instead  of  leading.  It  is 
actual  horticulture  that  now  engrosses  people,  the  practical 
cultivation  of  new  and  rare  plants,  the  raising  and  hybri- 
dising of  florists'  varieties.  The  time  for  merely  well- 
kept  lawns  and  artificial  water  and  a  few  masses  of  bright 
flowers,  which  was  all  the  public  asked  for  in  the  Sixties, 
has  gone  by.  A  thirst  for  new  flowers,  for  strange  com- 
binations of  colours,  for  revivals  of  long-forgotten  plants 


loo     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

and  curious  shrubs,  has  now  taken  possession  of  the 
large  circle  of  people  who  profess  to  be  gardeners.  Apart 
from  the  question  whether  the  present  fashion  has  taken 
the  best  direction  for  the  advancement  of  botany  and 
horticulture,  it  is  evident  no  society  can  prosper  unless 
it  directs  its  attention  to  suit  the  popular  fancy.  No 
doubt  this  worthy  Society  will  realise  this,  and  emerge 
triumphant  from  its  present  embarrassments. 

The   third   and   best   known    of  the   societies   is  the 
Zoological   one.      What    London    child    has    not    spent 
moments  of  supreme  joy  mingled  with  awe  on  the  back 
of  the  forbearing  elephant  ?     And  there  are  few  grown 
persons  who  do  not  share  with  them  the  delight  of  an 
hour's    stroll    through    the   "  Zoo."       More   than   ever, 
with  the  improved  aviaries  and  delighful  seal  ponds,  is 
the  Zoo  attractive.     It  was  the  first  of  the  three  Societies 
to   settle   in   the    Park,   having   been   there   since    1826, 
Some  of  the  original  buildings  were  designed  by  Decimus 
Burton,   who,  next  to  Nash,   is   the  architect   most   as- 
sociated with  the  Park.     The  Society  was   the  idea   of 
Sir  Thomas  Raffles,  who  became  the  first  President  in 
1825.     In  three  years  there  were  over  12,000  members, 
and  the  gardens  were  thronged  by  30,000  visitors.    A  pass 
signed  by  a  member  was  necessary  for  the  admission  of 
every  party  of  people,  besides  the  payment  of  a  shilling 
each.     An  abuse  of  this  soon  crept  in,  and  people  waited 
at  the  gates  to  attach  themselves  to  the  parties  entering, 
and  well-dressed  young  ladies   begged  the   kindness  of 
members  who  were  seen   approaching  the  gates.     Now 
only  Sunday  admittance  is  dependent  on  the  members. 
A  Guide  to  Regent's  Park  in   1829  gives  engravings  of 
many   of  the  animals,  and   shows   the  summer  quarters 
of  the  monkeys — most  quaint  arrangements,  like  a  pigeon 


REGENT'S    PARK 


lOI 


cot  on  a  pole,  to  which  the  monkey  with  chain  and  ring 
was  attached,  to  race  up  and  down  at  will. 

The  only  alterations  of  importance  after  the  com- 
pletion of  the  Park  were  the  making  of  the  flower 
garden,  and  the  filling  up  of  the  artificial  water  to  a 
uniform   depth  of  4  feet,  after  a  terrible  accident  had 


^   .V 


^-/^/n: 


^It^  ^'   s'  r  •-/  "i^  ■*  ■^ 


Stone  Vase  in  Regent's  Park 

occurred  in  1867,  when  the  ice  broke  and  forty  skaters 
lost  their  lives.  The  flower-beds  are  now  one  of  the 
most  attractive  features  in  the  Park,  and  were  originally 
designed  by  Nesfield  in  1863.  The  centre  walk  con- 
tinues the  line  of  the  "Broad  Walk"  avenue  at  its 
southern  end.  In  the  middle  is  a  fine  stone  vase  sup- 
ported by  griflins,  and  other  stone  ornaments  in  keeping 
with  the  formal  style. 


I02     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

The  frame-ground  in  Regent's  Park  has  to  be  a 
spacious  one,  to  produce  all  that  is  required  in  the 
way  of  spring  and  summer  plants.  The  fogs  are  the 
greatest  enemies  of  the  London  gardener,  and  more 
especially  on  the  heavier  soil  of  Regent's  Park.  Not 
even  the  most  hardy  of  the  bedding-out  plants  will 
survive  the  winter,  unless  in  frames.  Even  wall-flowers 
and  forget-me-nots  will  perish  with  a  single  bad  night 
of  fog,  unless  under  glass.  Although,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  surprising  how  some  species  apparently  un- 
suited  to  withstand  the  climate  will  survive.  Among 
the  rock  plants  growing  in  a  private  rock-garden  within 
the  Park  Azalia  procumbens^  that  precarious  Alpine,  is 
perfectly  at  home.  Clumps  of  Cypripedium  spectabele  come 
up  and  flower  year  after  year,  and  Arnehia  echioides^  the 
prophet  flower,  by  no  means  easy  to  grow,  seems  quite 
established.  But  to  return  to  the  frame-ground,  from 
whence  all  the  bedding  plants  emanate.  Violas  are  a 
special  feature  in  the  Park,  and  one  which  is  much  to 
be  commended,  as  their  season  of  beauty  is  so  protracted. 
They  are  all  struck  in  frames,  one  row  of  fifty-three 
lights  being  devoted  to  them,  in  which  23,750  cuttings 
are  put  annually.  The  green-houses  are  used  for  stor- 
ing plants  not  only  for  the  decoration  of  the  Park 
but  for  some  fourteen  other  places  outside.  The 
Tower,  the  Law  Courts,  Mint,  Audit  Office,  the 
Mercantile  Marine  in  Poplar,  are  all  supplied  from 
Regent's  Park.  The  Tate  Gallery  and  Hertford 
House  have  to  be  catered  for  also.  Whether  the 
visitors  to  the  Wallace  Collection  even  notice  the 
plants  it  is  impossible  to  say ;  they  might  miss  their 
absence.  But  the  gardeners  have  to  give  these  few 
pots    considerable    care,  as    they   will   only   stand   for  a 


up  CO 

w 
.  o 


in 


GARI 
Park   has 


'dding- 


....  _    ....^.^   ,  ... 
vlthough,  on   the 

s  apparently  un- 

■17 

> 


o  ■  ^^^^^ 

S  ^  which  23,75c  cuttings 

J5Q  nualiy.      i  he  grccn-houscs  are  used  for  stor- 

w  ■       '  .        •         '•   ■'->      '^    ' 

Mint, 


plant: 


REGENT'S    PARK  103 

very  short  time  inside  the  building,  and  after  three 
weeks'  visit  return  to  hospital. 

Of  late  years  a  considerable  alteration  has  been 
made  in  the  arrangement  of  the  beds  in  the  flower- 
garden  of  the  Park,  chiefly  with  a  view  to  reducing 
the  bedding  and  yet  obtaining  a  better  eff^ect.  Long 
herbaceous  borders  have  been  substituted  for  one  of  the 
rows  of  formal  beds,  requiring  a  constant  succession 
of  plants.  This  has  necessitated  the  removal  of  some 
of  the  flowers  shown  in  the  view  of  this  garden  taken 
in  the  spring.  The  loss  of  these  is  compensated  by 
the  new  arrangement  of  beds,  separated  from  the  Park 
by  a  hedge  and  flowering  shrubs. 

Very  few  of  the  old  trees  remain  in  Regent's  Park ; 
what  became  of  them  between  the  time  when  only  a 
portion  were  marked  for  the  navy  by  Cromwell,  and 
the  present  day,  there  is  no  record  as  yet  forthcoming. 
Two  elms  near  the  flower-garden  are,  however,  remark- 
ably fine  specimens,  as  the  branches  feather  on  to  the 
ground  all  round.  A  Paulownia  tomentosa  is  well  worthy 
of  notice.  It  must  have  been  one  of  the  earliest  to 
be  planted  in  this  country,  and  is  a  large  spreading  tree. 
It  stands  on  what  is  known  as  the  Mound,  near  Chester 
Gate.  Nineteen  years  ago  it  flowered,  and  in  the  un- 
usually warm  autumn  of  1906  it  was  covered  with  buds 
of  blossom,  all  ready  to  expand,  when,  alas  !  the  long- 
delayed  frost  arrived  in  October,  just  too  soon  for 
them  to  come  to  perfection.  Not  far  from  it  is  a 
large  tree  of  Cotoneaster  frigida^  which  has  masses  of 
red  berries  every  year. 

The  railings  of  Regent's  Park  have  always  been  of 
timber,  but  it  is  now  threatened  to  alter  this  survival 
of  the  days  when  it  first  changed  from  Marylebone  Farm. 


104     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

The  present  timber  fence  has  stood  for  forty  years,  so 
even  from  an  economical  point  of  view  iron,  which  re- 
quires painting,  could  not  be  recommended.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  the  old  traditional  style  of  fence  of.  this  delight- 
ful Park  may  be  continued. 

To  the  north  of  Regent's  Park,  and  only  divided 
from  it  by  a  road,  lies  Primrose  Hill.  This  curious 
conical  hill,  216  feet  high,  so  well  known  as  an  open 
space  enjoyed  by  the  public,  formerly  belonged  to 
Eton  College,  but  became  Crown  property  about  the 
middle  of  last  century,  and  is  now  under  the  Office  of 
Works,  who  keep  it  in  order,  and  have  done  all  the 
planting  which  has  of  late  years  improved  this  other- 
wise bare  eminence.  Some  of  the  guide-books  to  London 
refer  to  the  lines  of  Mother  Shipton's  prophecy  that 
Primrose  Hill  "  must  one  day  be  the  centre  of  London." 
The  passage  this  is  supposed  to  be  based  on,  is  that 
which  used  to  be  said  to  foretell  railways,  and  now 
people  see  in  it  a  foreshadowing  of  motor  cars.  At 
one  time  also  the  marriage  reference  which  is  in  the 
same  poem  was  applied  to  Queen  Victoria.  The  lines 
are  these — 

'♦  Carriages  without  horses  shall  go. 
And  accidents  fill  the  world  with  woe  : 
Primrose  Hill  in  London  shall  be, 
And  in  its  centre  a  Bishop's  see. 


The  British  Olive  next  shall  twine, 
In  marriage  with  the  German  Vine. 


The  early  editions  of  the  prophecy  contain  none  of 
these  lines  except  the  two  last,  which  are  quoted  in  the 
1687  edition,  and  are  there  interpreted  to  refer  to  the 
marriage  of  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  L,  and  the 


REGENT'S    PARK  105 

Elector  Palatine.  The  Primrose  Hill  lines  first  made 
their  appearance  in  1877!  So,  although  now  quite 
surrounded  by  houses,  and  well  within  the  County  of 
London,  that  this  would  be  so  in  time  to  come,  was  not 
foretold  three  hundred  years  ago. 

The  delightfully  rural  name  dates  from  the  time  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  and  is  said  to  be  derived  from  the 
number  of  primroses  which  grew  there.  The  earlier 
name  was  Barrow  Hill,  from  supposed  ancient  burials. 
After  the  mysterious  murder  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  God- 
frey in  October  1678,  his  body  was  found  in  a  ditch 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  At  one  time  the  superstitious 
thought  his  ghost  haunted  the  place,  and  a  contemporary 
medal  has  this  inscription — 

"  Godfrey  walks  up  hill  after  he  was  dead ; 
[St.]  Denis  walks  down  hill  carrying  his  head." 

The  fresh  air  and  pleasant  view  from  the  top  of  the 
hill,  and  the  cheery  sounds  of  games,  have  long  ago 
dispelled  all  these  gloomy  memories. 


CHAPTER    V 

GREENWICH   PARK 

loivered  cities  please  us  then. 
And  the  busy  hum  of  men, 
IVhere  throngs  of  knights  and  barons  bold 
In  iveeds  of  peace  high  triumphs  hold. 
With  store  of  ladies,  ivhose  bright  eyes 
Rain  influence,  and  judge  the  pri%e 
Of  ivit,  or  arms,  ivhile  both  contend 
To  luin  her  grace,  tvhom  all  commend. 

— Milton. 


T  would  not  occur  to  most  people 
to  reckon  Greenwich  among  the 
London  Parks.  But  it  is  well 
within  the  bounds  of  the  County 
of  London,  and  now  so  easy  of 
access  that  it  should  have  no 
difficulty  in  substantiating  its 
claim  to  be  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful among  them.  Both  for  natural  features  and 
historic  interest  it  is  one  of  the  most  fascinating. 

Its  Spanish  chestnuts  are  among  the  distinguishing 
characteristics,  and  although  smoke  is  slowly  telling  on 
them,  numbers  of  these  sturdy  timber  trees  are  still 
in  their  prime,  and  it  would  be  hard  to  find  a  more 
splendid  collection  in  any  part  of  the  country.  One 
of  the   giants  is  20   feet   in   girth   at   3    feet   from  the 

ground,  and  contains  200  feet  of  timber. 

106 


GREENWICH    PARK  107 

Those  who  are  the  ready  champions  of  the  rights  of 
the  people  to  the  common  lands,  and  who  justly  inveigh 
against  all  encroachments,  must  feel  bound  to  admit  that, 
in  the  case  of  Greenwich  Park,  what  they  would  call 
pilfering  in  other  instances  is  thoroughly  justified.  The 
land  which  forms  the  Park  was  part  of  Blackheath  until 
Henry  VI.,  in  the  fifteenth  year  of  his  reign,  gave  his 
uncle  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  licence  to  enclose 
200  acres  of  the  wood  and  heath  "to  make  a  park  in 
Greenwich." 

The  modern  history  of  Greenwich  Park  may  be  said 
to  begin  in  Duke  Humphrey's  time,  but  it  was  a  favourite 
resort  long  before  that.  Situated  on  the  high  ground 
above  the  marshy  banks  of  the  river,  and  near  the  Wat- 
ling  Street  between  London  and  Dover,  Greenwich  was 
found  suitable  for  country  residence  in  Roman  times. 
On  one  of  the  hills  in  the  Park,  with  a  commanding  view 
over  the  river,  the  remains  of  a  Roman  villa  have  been 
excavated.  Over  300  coins  were  found,  dating  from 
2S  B.C.  to  A.D.  423,  Bronzes,  pottery,  a  tesselated 
pavement,  and  the  remains  of  painted  plaster  were 
discovered,  showing  that  it  must  have  been  a  villa  of 
"  taste  and  elegance,"  and  there  were  indications  that 
the  final  destruction  of  this  charming  abode  was  by  fire. 
A  peep  into  the  past  might  reveal  the  last  of  its 
Roman  occupants  flying  before  the  barbarian  Jute. 

Doubtless  in  its  prime  there  would  be  a  garden  near 
the  villa — perhaps  a  faint  imitation  of  those  Roman 
gardens  like  Pliny's.  There,  "  in  front  of  the  portico," 
was  "  a  sort  of  terrace,  embellished  with  various  figures 
and  bounded  with  a  box-hedge,"  which  descended  "  by  an 
easy  slope,  adorned  with  the  representation  of  divers 
animals  in  box,"  to  a  soft  lawn.     There  were  shady  trees 


io8     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

and  a  splashing  fountain,  and  sunny  walks  to  form  "  a 
very  pleasing  contrast,"  where  the  air  was  "  perfumed 
with  roses."  The  slopes  of  Greenwich  may  have  pre- 
sented such  a  scene  in  the  days  when  Roman  galleys 
rowed  up  the  Thames. 

In  another  part  of  the  Park,  Roman  graves  have  been 
found,  and  other  burying-places  of  a  later  date  suggest  a 
very  different  picture  from  that  of  Roman  times.  These 
tumuli  are  very  numerous,  and  although  over  twenty 
remain,  a  much  greater  number  existed,  and  have  been 
rifled  from  time  to  time,  or  excavated,  as  in  1784,  when 
some  fifty  were  opened,  and  braids  of  human  hair,  frag- 
ments of  woollen  cloth,  and  beads  were  found.  These 
graves  suggest  the  occupation  of  these  heights  by  the 
Danes,  who  were  encamped  there  for  some  three  years 
about  loii.  Wild  and  lawless  must  have  been  the 
aspect  then,  and  the  incident  that  stands  out  prominently 
is  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Alphege,  the  Archbishop,  slain 
here  by  the  Danes  in   1012. 

There  was  probably  some  royal  residence  at  Green- 
wich from  the  time  of  Edward  1.,  but  it  was  not 
until  it  came  to  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  that 
the  Palace  much  used  in  Tudor  times  was  built.  This 
building  faced  the  Thames,  and  went  by  the  name  of 
"  Placentia "  or  "  Plaisance,"  and  round  it  there  was  a 
garden.  The  royal  licence,  which  gave  the  Duke  leave 
to  enclose  a  portion  of  the  heath,  provided  that  he  might 
also  build  "  Towers  of  stone  and  lime."  The  tower 
stood  on  the  hill  now  crowned  by  the  Observatory,  and 
was  pulled  down  when  Charles  II.  had  the  Observatory 
erected  from  designs  by  Wren  in  1675.  The  plan  in- 
cluded a  well  100  feet  deep,  at  the  bottom  of  which  the 
astronomer  Flamsteed  could  lie  and  observe  the  heavens. 


GREENWICH    PARK  109 

All  through  the  earlier  history  of  the  Park  this  tower 
must  have  been  a  conspicuous  object.     During  Tudor 
times  Greenwich  was  much  lived  in  by  the  Sovereign,  and 
many  a  gay  pageant  enlivened  the  Park.    Jousts  and  tour- 
naments, Christmas  games  and  May  Day  frolics,  were  of 
yearly    recurrence    in    the    early   days    of   Henry    VIII. 
The    Court    moved    there    regularly   to    "  bring    in    the 
May."     A  picturesque  account  is  given  of  one  of  these 
merry-makings    by   the    Venetian   Ambassador    and    his 
Secretary,     The  Ambassador  was  charmed  with  the  King. 
"  Not  only,"  he  writes,  is  he  '*  very  expert  in  arms  and 
of  great  valour,  and  most  excellent  in  personal  endow- 
ment, but  is  likewise  so  gifted  and  adorned  with  mental 
accomplishments  of  every  sort."     He  joined  in  the  May 
Day   proceedings,  which  must  indeed  have  presented  a 
brilliant  spectacle,  with  the  oaks  and  hawthorn,  and  all 
the  wild  beauty  of  Greenwich  Park,  as  a   background. 
Katharine  of  Aragon,  "  most  excellently  attired  and  very 
richly,   and   with   her   twenty-five   damsels   mounted   on 
white  palfreys,  with  housings  of  the  same  fashion  most 
beautifully    embroidered    in    gold,"    and    followed     by 
"  a    number    of    footmen,"    rode    out    into    the    wood, 
where  "  they  found  the  King  with  his  guard,  all  clad  in 
a  livery  of  green  with  bowers  [boughs]  in  their  hands, 
and   about   100  noblemen   on   horseback,  all  gorgeously 
arrayed."     "  In  this  wood  were  certain  bowers  filled  pur- 
posely with  singing  birds,  which  carrolled  most  sweetly." 
Music  played,  and  a  banquet  under  the  trees  followed, 
then  the  procession  with  the  King  and  Queen  together 
returned  to  the  Palace.     The  crowds  flocking  round  them 
the  Venetian  estimated  "to  exceed  .  .  .  25,000  persons." 
Queen  Mary  was  born  at  Greenwich,  and  there  she 
was  betrothed  to  the   Dauphin  of  France.     She  resided 


no  LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

here  much  during  her  short  and  troublous  reign  ;  and 
perhaps  her  fondness  for  this  Palace  came  from  the 
association  of  her  early  youth,  when  she  was  the  centre 
of  attraction.  Greenwich  cannot  always  have  been 
pleasant  for  the  Princess  Mary,  for  here  came  Anne 
Boleyn.  From  Greenwich  she  was  escorted  in  state  to 
London  by  the  Lord  Mayor,  who  was  summoned  by  the 
King  to  fetch  her,  and  from  Greenwich  she  was  taken  up 
the  river,  her  last  melancholy  journey  to  the  Tower.  The 
oak  under  which  Henry  VIII.  is  said  to  have  danced 
with  her  is  still  standing.  It  is  a  huge,  old,  hollow  stem, 
though  quite  dead,  kept  upright  by  the  ivy.  The  trunk 
has  a  hole  6  feet  in  diameter,  and  it  is  known  as  Queen 
Elizabeth's  Oak,  as  tradition  also  says  she  took  refresh- 
ments inside  it.  It  was  fitted  with  a  door,  and  those  who 
transgressed  the  rules  of  the  Park  were  confined  in  this 
original  prison.  It  was  at  Greenwich  that  Queen  Eliza- 
beth was  born  ;  and  to  Greenwich  Henry  brought  his 
fourth  bride,  when  poor  Anne  Boleyn's  short-lived  favour 
was  at  an  end,  and  Jane  Seymour  dead.  The  less  beautiful 
Anne  of  Cleves,  who  so  signally  failed  to  please  the  King, 
was  escorted  in  state  from  Calais  by  thirty  gentlemen, 
with  their  servants,  "  in  cotes  of  black  velvet  with  cheines 
of  gold  about  their  neckes."  On  January  3,  1540,  the 
King  rode  up  from  the  Palace  to  meet  her  on  Blackheath 
with  noblemen,  knights,  and  gentlemen,  and  citizens,  all 
in  velvet  with  gold  chains.  The  King  rode  a  horse  with 
rich  trappings  of  gold  damask  studded  with  pearls,  a 
coat  of  purple  velvet  slashed  with  gold,  and  a  bonnet 
decorated  with  "  unvalued  gems."  Anne  came  out  of 
her  tent  on  the  Heath  to  meet  him,  clad  in  cloth  of  gold, 
and  mounted  on  a  horse  with  trappings  embroidered  with 
her  arms,  a  lion  sable.     She  rode  right  through  the  Park 


GREENWICH    PARK  iii 

from  the  Black  Heath  to  the  northern  gate  and  round 
through  the  town  to  the  Palace,  the  guns  firing  from  the 
Tower  in  her  honour. 

It  was  at  Greenwich  that  the  boy  king,  Edward  VI., 
died,  and  Mary  and  Elizabeth  were  constantly  there. 
Their  state  barges  bearing  them  to  and  from  the  Palace 
must  have  been  no  uncommon  sight  on  the  Thames.  It 
was  on  landing  on  one  of  these  occasions  that  the  famous 
episode  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  laying  his  cloak  in  the 
mud  for  the  Queen  to  tread  on,  happened.  One  of  the 
many  brilliant  scenes  in  the  Park  took  place  after  Eliza- 
beth's accession,  when  the  citizens  of  London,  overjoyed, 
wished  to  give  her  a  very  special  greeting.  It  was  on 
July  2,  1559,  that  "the  City  of  London  entertained  the 
Queen  at  Greenwich  with  a  muster,  each  Company 
sending  out  a  certain  number  of  men-at-arms"  (1400 
in  all),  "to  her  great  delight.  ,  .  .  On  the  ist  of  July 
they  marched  out  of  London  in  coats  of  velvet  and 
chaines  of  gold,  with  guns,  moris  pikes,  halberds,  and 
flags  ;  and  so  over  London  Bridge  unto  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk's  Park  in  Southwark ;  where  they  all  mustered 
before  the  Lord  Mayor,  and  lay  abroad  in  St.  George's 
Fields  all  that  night.  The  next  morning  they  removed 
towards  Greenwich  to  the  Court  there  ;  and  thence  to 
Greenwich  Park.  Here  they  tarried  till  eight  of  the 
clock ;  then  they  marched  down  into  the  Lawn,  and 
mustered  in  arms  :  all  the  gunners  in  shirts  of  mail.  At 
five  of  the  clock  at  night  the  Queen  came  into  the 
gallery  over  the  Park  Gate,  with  the  Ambassadors,  Lords, 
and  Ladies,  to  a  great  number.  The  Lord  Marquis, 
Lord  Admiral,  Lord  Dudley,  and  divers  other  Lords 
and  Knights,  rode  to  and  fro  to  view  them,  and  to  set 
the  two  battles  in  array  to  skirmish  before  the  Queen  : 


112     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

then  came  the  trumpets  to  blow  on  each  part,  the  drums 
beating,  and  the  flutes  playing.  There  were  given  three 
onsets  in  every  battle ;  the  guns  discharged  on  one 
another,  the  moris  pikes  encountered  together  with  great 
alarm  ;  each  ran  to  their  weapons  again,  and  then  they 
fell  together  as  fast  as  they  could,  in  imitation  of  close 
fight.  All  this  while  the  Queen,  with  the  rest  of  the 
Nobles  about  her,  beheld  the  skirmishings.  .  .  .  After 
all  this,  Mr.  Chamberlain,  and  divers  of  the  Commons  of 
the  City  and  the  Wiflers,  came  before  her  Grace,  who 
thanked  them  heartily,  and  all  the  City  :  whereupon 
immediately  was  given  the  greatest  shout  as  ever  was 
heard,  with  hurling  up  of  caps.  And  the  Queen  shewed 
herself  very  merry.  After  this  was  a  running  at  tilt. 
And  lastly,  all  departed  home  to  London." 

This  fete  took  place  on  a  Sunday,  and  the  time 
between  the  muster  and  the  fight  was  probably  mostly 
spent  in  refreshment.  The  account  for  the  supplies  of 
the  "  Mete  and  Drynke  "  for  ist  day  of  July  and  Sunday 
night  supper  is  preserved.  They  were  far  from  being 
starved,  as,  among  other  items,  9  geese,  14  capons,  8 
chickens,  3  quarters  and  2  necks  of  mutton,  4  breasts  of 
veal,  beside  a  sirloin  of  beef,  venison  pasties,  8  marrow- 
bones, fresh  sturgeon,  3  gallons  of  cream,  and  other 
delicacies  were  provided  for  them.  Floral  decorations 
in  their  honour  were  not  forgotten,  and  appear  in  the 
accounts — "  gely  flowers  and  marygolds  for  iii  garlands, 
7d.;  strawynge  herbes,  1/4  ;  bowes  for  the  chemneys,  id.; 
flowers  for  the  potts  in  the  wyndowys,  6d." 

There  is  no  end  to  the  gay  scenes  that  the  Park 
and  even  some  of  the  most  ancient  trees  have  witnessed. 
"  Goodly  banquetting  houses "  were  built  of  "  fir  poles 
decked   with  birch  branches  and  all   manner  of  flowers 


GREENWICH    PARK  113 

both  of  the  field  and  garden,  as  roses,  gilly  flowers, 
lavender,  marigold,  and  all  manner  of  strewing  herbs  and 
rushes"  (loth  July  1572);  and  many  a  brilliant  pageant 
took  place  under  the  greenwood  tree  as  well  as  in  the 
Palace,  where  Shakespeare  acted  before  the  Queen. 

Although  the  days  of  sumptuous  pageantry  ended 
with  Elizabeth,  much  was  done  for  Greenwich  by  the 
Stuarts.  James  I.  replaced  the  wooden  fence  of  the 
Park  by  a  brick  wall,  12  feet  high  and  2  miles  round. 
At  various  times  sections  have  been  altered  or  replaced 
by  iron  rails,  but  the  greater  part  of  the  wall  remains  as 
completed  between  1619-25. 

The  "  Queen's  House,"  which  is  the  only  portion  of 
the  older  building  which  still  exists,  was  begun  under 
James  I.,  and  completed  by  Inigo  Jones  for  Queen 
Henrietta  Maria.  It  was  called  the  House  of  Delight 
or  the  Queen's  House,  and  still  bears  the  latter  title. 
Although  the  sale  does  not  appear  to  have  been  actually 
completed,  Greenwich  is  among  the  Royal  Parks  the 
Parliament  intended  to  sell.  The  deer  at  the  time  must 
have  been  numerous  and  in  good  condition,  for  during 
the  Commonwealth  the  fear  of  their  being  stolen  was 
such,  that  soldiers  were  posted  in  the  tower  for  their 
preservation.  Not  any  great  change,  however,  took 
place ;  the  Park  remained  as  it  was  until  completely 
remodelled  by  Charles  II. 

Le  Notre's  name  is  associated  with  the  changes  at 
Greenwich,  as  it  is  with  those  in  St.  James's  Park,  and  the 
style  was  undoubtedly  his  ;  but  it  is  not  at  all  likely  that 
he  ever  actually  came  to  England,  but  sent  some  repre- 
sentative who  helped  to  carry  out  his  ideas.  The  altera- 
tions were  under  the  superintendence  of  Sir  William 
Boreman,  who  became  Keeper  of  the  Park  about  that 

H 


114     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

date.  In  March  1644  John  Evelyn  made  a  note  in  his 
Diary  about  planting  some  trees  at  his  house  of  Sayes 
Court,  Deptford,  and  adds,  "  being  the  same  year  that 
the  elms  were  planted  by  His  Majesty  in  Greenwich 
Park."  The  avenues  and  all  the  fine  sweet  chestnuts 
were  planted  about  this  time,  besides  coppices  and 
orchards.  John  Evelyn  must  have  approved  of  these 
avenues,  as  in  his  "  Sylva  "  he  praises  the  chestnut  for 
"Avenues  to  our  Country-houses;  they  are  a  magnificent 
and  royal  Ornament."  Their  nuts  were  not  appreciated 
in  England.  "  We  give  that  food  to  our  swine,"  Evelyn 
continues,  "which  is  amongst  the  delicacies  of  Princes 
in  other  Countries  ;  .  •  .  doubtless  we  might  propagate 
their  use  amongst  our  common  people  .  .  .  being  a  Food 
so  cheap  and  so  lasting." 

A  series  of  terraces  sloping  down  from  the  tower 
formed  part  of  the  design,  and  their  outline  can  still  be 
traced  between  the  Observatory  and  the  Queen's  House, 
which  faces  the  hill  at  the  foot.  Each  terrace  was  40 
yards  wide,  and  on  either  side  Scotch  firs  were  planted 
24  feet  apart.  These  trees  were  brought  by  General 
Monk  from  Scotland  in  1664,  and  until  forty  years  ago 
many  were  standing,  and  the  line  of  the  avenue  was  still 
traceable  ;  some  of  the  trunks  measured  4  feet  in  diameter 
at  the  ground.  Smoke  tells  so  much  more  on  all  the 
coniferous  tribes  than  on  the  deciduous  trees,  that  they 
have  all  now  perished.  The  last  dead  stump  had  to  be 
felled  some  ten  years  ago.  The  old  Palace  was  much 
gone  to  decay  when  Charles  II.  began  the  alterations, 
so  he  pulled  it  down  with  the  exception  of  the  Queen's 
House,  the  only  part  said  to  be  in  good  repair,  and 
commenced  a  vast  building  designed  by  Wren,  one 
wing  of  which  only  was  completed  in  his  reign. 


GREENWICH    PARK  115 

Pepys,  who  always  did  the  right  and  fashionable 
thing,  of  course  often  went  to  Greenwich,  and  mentions 
many  pleasant  days  there.  On  one  occasion  (June  16, 
1662)  he  went  "in  the  afternoon  with  all  the  children 
by  water  to  Greenwich,  where  I  showed  them  the  King's 
yacht,  the  house,  and  the  parke,  all  very  pleasant ;  and 
to  the  taverne,  and  had  the  musique  of  the  house,  and  so 
merrily  home  again."  This  excursion  having  been  so 
successful,  he  soon  after  escorted  Lady  Carteret  with 
great  pride,  "  she  being  very  fine,  and  her  page  carrying 
up  her  train,  she  staying  a  little  at  my  house,  and  then 
walked  through  the  garden,  and  took  water,  and  went 
first  on  board  the  King's  pleasure-boat,  which  pleased  her 
much.  Then  to  Greenwiche  Parke  ;  and  with  much  ado 
she  was  able  to  walk  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  so 
down  again,  and  took  boat  .  .  ."  His  wife  and  servants, 
unencumbered  by  the  fine  clothes  and  the  page,  had 
evidently  not  minded  the  steep  ascent  as  did  this  "fine  " 
lady,  who,  however,  was  "  much  pleased  with  the  ramble 
in  every  particular  of  it." 

Greenwich  Fair  was  always  a  great  institution,  and  as 
a  rule  it  was  a  riotous  and  disorderly  gathering.  Two 
took  place  each  year,  in  May  and  October,  and  lasted 
several  days.  During  the  seventeenth  and  following 
centuries  the  fairs  were  notorious,  and  finally  had  to  be 
suppressed  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth. 

When  William  III.  altered  the  building  of  Charles  II. 
from  a  palace  to  a  hospital  for  seamen  in  1694  the  Park 
was  kept  separate,  and  the  Ranger  lived  in  the  "  Queen's 
House."  It  was  not  until  Princess  Sophia  held  the  office 
in  1 8 16  that  the  residence  was  changed  to  the  house 
which  still  goes  by  the  name  of  the  Ranger's  Lodge,  and 
was  lived  in  by  the  last  Ranger,  Lord  Wolseley.     This 


ii6     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Ranger's  House  had  formerly  belonged  to  Lord  Chester- 
field, and  many  of  the  famous  letters  to  his  godson  are 
dated  from  there.  No  special  feature  in  the  garden, 
which  was  thrown  open  to  the  public  with  the  Park  in 
1898,  can  be  attributed  to  him.  He  was  not,  as  Lord 
Carnarvon's  memoir  of  him  points  out,  fond  of  the 
country ;  though  he  "  took  some  interest  in  growing 
fruit  in  his  garden  at  Blackheath,  he  had  no  love  for  his 
garden  like  Bacon  "  or  Sir  William  Temple.  There  are 
some  fine  trees  in  the  grounds,  especially  a  copper  beech, 
with  a  spread  57  feet  in  diameter,  and  a  good  tulip  tree. 
Queen  Caroline,  as  Princess  of  Wales,  was  Ranger  in 
I  806,  and  lived  in  Montague  House,  since  pulled  down, 
and  the  "  Queen's  House  "  was  appropriated  to  the  Royal 
Naval  School.  At  the  same  time  the  "Ranger's"  was 
inhabited  by  the  Duchess  of  Brunswick,  her  mother,  and 
it  was  on  her  death  that  it  was  purchased  by  the  Crown, 
and  Princess  Sophia,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester, 
came  to  live  there  as  Ranger.  The  last  royal  personage 
to  stay  in  the  house  was  the  Duke  of  Connaught,  when 
studying  at  Woolwich ;  and  now  it  serves  as  refreshment 
rooms  for  the  numberless  trippers  who  enjoy  Greenwich 
Park  in  the  summer. 

The  most  recent  changes  in  the  Park  have  all  been 
improvements,  and  now  it  is  beautifully  kept.  There  is 
much  that  is  still  wild,  and  the  flora  and  fauna  of  the 
Park  would  astonish  many.  Among  the  wild  flowers 
butcher's  broom,  spindle,  and  the  parasites  on  the  heather 
and  the  broom,  dodder  and  broom-rape  are  to  be  found, 
and  hart's-tongue,  wall  rue,  polypody  and  male  and  lady 
ferns.  The  list  of  birds  that  breed  there  still  is  a  long 
one  : — 


GREENWICH    PARK  117 

Barndoor  owl.  Linnet. 

Spotted  fly-catcher.  Bullfinch. 

Missel  and  the  song  thrush.               Starling. 

Blackbird.  Carrion  crow. 

Hedge  sparrow.  Jackdaw. 

Robin.  Green  woodpecker. 

Sedge  and  reed  warblers.  Tree  creeper. 

Black-cap.  Wren. 

White-throat.  Nuthatch. 

The  great,  blue,  and  cole  tits.  Swallow. 

Pied  wagtail.  Ring,  turtle,  and  stock  doves. 

Common  bunting.  Pigeon. 

House  sparrow.  Moorhen. 

Greenfinch.  Lesser  grebe. 

The  part  of  the  Park  fenced  off  and  known  as  the 
Wilderness  is  quiet  and  undisturbed ;  there  under  the 
big  trees,  among  long  grass  and  bracken,  the  young  fawns 
are  reared  every  year.  They  are  most  confiding  and 
tame — those  in  the  Park  too  much  so ;  for  they  are  only 
too  ready  to  eat  what  is  given  them,  and  tragic  deaths 
from  a  surfeit  of  orange-peel  or  such-like  delights  are 
the  result. 

The  lake  is  prettily  planted,  and  red  marliac  varieties 
of  water-lilies  now  float  on  the  surface  in  the  summer. 
The  dell,  planted  with  a  large  collection  of  flowering 
shrubs,  is  well  arranged,  and  many  choice  varieties, 
Solanum  crispum^  g^"^  cistus,  magnolias,  Buddlea  inter- 
media^ Indigofera  gerardiana  floribunda,  and  such-like  are 
doing  well.  The  frame-ground  is  most  unostentatious, 
and  it  is  satisfactory  to  see  how  much  can  be  produced. 
The  climate  allows  of  the  spring  bedding  plants  and 
hardy  chrysanthemums  for  autumn  being  raised  out  of 
doors;  and  the  small  amount  of  glass  shelters  the  standard 
heliotropes,  Streptosolens  Jamesoni^  and  the  like  for  bedding. 
Lilies    do    well    in    the    open  ;    superbum^    tiger,     thun- 


ii8     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

bergium^  Henry  it  ^  &c.,  and  pots  of  longifolium  flower 
strongly  after  doing  duty  for  three  years.  There  is  now 
a  fair-sized  garden,  where  these  plants  are  displayed, 
near  the  Wilderness,  adjoining  Blackheath ;  while  the 
rest  of  the  Park,  with  the  deer  wandering  under  the 
chestnuts,  is  still  left  delightfully  wild.  Under  the 
shady  trees  on  a  summer's  day  it  would  still  be  possible 
to  dream  of  Romans  and  Danes,  of  pageants  and  tour- 
naments, and  to  people  the  scene  with  the  heroes  and 
heroines  of  yore. 


CHAPTER   VI 

MUNICIPAL    PARKS 

l^et  cities,  kirks,  and  everie  noble  toivtie 
Be  purified,  and  decked  up  and  doivne. 

— Alexander   Hume  (1557-1609). 


ONDON  is  almost  completely  sur- 
rounded by  a  chain  of  parks. 
Luckily,  as  the  town  grew,  the 
necessity  for  fresh  air  began  to  be 
realised,  and  before  it  was  too  late, 
in  the  thickly-populated  districts 
north,  south,  east,  and  west,  any 
available  open  space  has  been  con- 
verted into  a  public  garden,  or  into  a  more  ambitious 
park.  Would  that  this  laudable  spirit  had  moved  people 
sooner,  and  then  there  might  have  been  a  Finsbury  Park 
nearer  Finsbury,  and  the  circle  of  green  patches  on  the 
map  might  have  been  more  evenly  dotted  about  some  of 
the  intervening  parishes.  Many  of  the  open  spaces  are 
heaths,  or  commons,  or  Lammas  Lands,  which  have 
various  rights  attached  to  them,  and,  in  consequence, 
have  been  saved  from  the  encroachments  which  have 
threatened  them  from  time  to  time,  and  have  thus  been 
preserved,  in  spite  of  the  growth  of  the  surrounding 
districts.  Of  late  years  the  rights  have  in  many  instances 
been  acquired  by  public  bodies,  so  as  to  keep  for  ever 

these  priceless  boons.     It  was  not  until   the  middle  of 

119 


I20     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

last  century  that  the  movement  in  favour  of  city  parks 
assumed  definite  form.  They  were  in  contemplation 
before  1 840,  but  none  were  completed  until  several  years 
later.  Victoria  was  the  first,  opened  in  1845  ;  Battersea, 
although  begun  then,  was  not  ready  for  planting  till 
1857  ;  Kennington,  Finsbury,  and  Southwark  had  fol- 
lowed before  1870,  and,  since  then,  every  few  years  new 
open  spaces  have  been  added.  They  have  been  purchased 
by  public  bodies  for  the  most  part,  but  a  large  share  of 
the  honour  of  acquiring  these  grounds  is  due  to  private 
munificence  and  individual  enterprise. 

Irrespective  of  the  commons  which  link  them  together, 
the  principal  parks  are  the  following.  Beginning  on  the 
extreme  north  there  is  Golder's  Hill,  then  to  the  east  of 
Hampstead  lies  Waterlow,  the  next  going  eastwards  is 
Finsbury,  then  Clissold  and  Springfield,  and  down 
towards  the  east  Victoria.  In  South  London,  between 
Woolwich  and  Greenwich,  lies  Maryon  Park  ;  then,  west 
of  Greenwich,  Deptford  and  Southwark ;  then  a  densely 
built-over  district  before  Kennington,  Vauxhall,  and 
Battersea  are  reached ;  while  away  to  the  south  lie 
Camberwell,  Ruskin,  Brockwell,  and  Dulwich ;  right 
away  into  the  country,  on  the  south-east,  Avery  Hill  and 
Eltham  ;  and  back  again  west,  across  the  river  again,  in 
Hammersmith,  is  Ravenscourt.  These  parks  of  varying 
sizes,  and  smaller  recreation  grounds  between,  make  up 
the  actual  parks,  although  some  of  the  commons,  with 
playgrounds,  artificial  water,  and  band-stands,  can  hardly 
be  distinguished  from  the  true  park. 

The  oldest  of  the  parks  now  under  the  London  County 
Council — Battersea,  Kennington,  and  Victoria — were  for 
many  years  under  the  Office  of  Works,  and  on  the  same 
footing  as  the  Royal  Parks.     Government,  and  no  muni- 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  121 

cipal  authority,  has  the  credit  of  their  formation.  Then 
came  several  formed  by  or  transferred  to  the  Metro- 
politan Board  of  Works.  To  all  these,  already  over 
2050  acres,  the  London  County  Council  automatically 
succeeded.  After  the  Bill  reorganising  the  disposal  of 
the  funds  of  the  London  Parochial  Charities  in  1883,  a 
part  of  their  money  was  allotted  to  provide  open  spaces, 
and  they  helped  to  purchase  many  of  the  parks — Clissold, 
Vauxhall,  Ravenscourt,  Brockwell,  and  so  on.  The 
acquisition  of  parks  has,  in  many  cases,  been  due  to 
private  individuals,  who  helped  to  raise  the  necessary 
funds,  and  themselves  contributed,  and  were  generally 
assisted  by  the  local  vestries,  and,  later  on,  Borough 
Councils.  Miss  Octavia  Hill,  by  writing  and  trying  to 
influence  public  opinion,  made  many  efforts  to  secure 
open  spaces.  At  her  instance  the  Kyrle  Society  was 
founded  for  the  general  improvement  of  homes,  of  dis- 
used burial-grounds,  and  open  spaces ;  and  from  this 
developed  the  Metropolitan  Gardens  Association,  of 
which  the  Earl  of  Meath  is  Chairman.  Immense  credit 
is  due  to  this  Society,  both  for  acquiring  new  sites  and 
beautifying  existing  ones,  and  being  instrumental  in 
having  countless  places  opened  to  the  public.  And  to 
private  individuals  who  have  given  whole  parks,  or 
largely  contributed  to  others,  too  much  gratitude  cannot 
be  expressed.  Since  they  came  into  office,  the  London 
County  Council  has  had  added  some  2300  acres  of 
open  spaces  and  parks  to  those  under  its  care,  which  have 
been  purchased,  or  given  in  whole  or  in  part,  by  private 
individuals  or  other  public  bodies.  Some  of  the  last 
acquisitions  of  the  London  County  Council  lie  quite 
outside  the  county  boundary,  so  are  beyond  the  limit 
set  to  this  volume.      Marble  Hill  is  away  at  Twicken- 


122     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

ham,  but  half  the  purchase-money  of  ^^72,000  was  paid 
by  the  London  County  Council,  and  the  entire  cost  of 
alteration  and  maintenance  is  found  by  it.  The  place 
was  bought  chiefly  to  preserve  the  wooded  aspect  of  the 
view  from  Richmond  Hill.  The  Forest  of  Hainault  is 
also  outside  the  bounds,  near  Epping.  The  805  acres 
there  are  partly  fields,  and  in  part  the  remains  of  the  old 
Forest  of  "  Hyneholt,"  as  it  was  often  written,  a  section 
of  the  Royal  Forest  which  covered  a  large  tract  of  Essex. 

The  most  natural  division,  when  dealing  with  these 
open  spaces,  is  the  river,  and  it  is  a  division  which  strikes 
a  fairly  even  balance.  Including  Royal  Parks,  which 
contain  some  1266  acres,  the  northern  side  can  claim  the 
larger  area,  as,  irrespective  of  squares  and  churchyards 
and  gardens,  there  are  about  3 141  acres  of  green.  The 
south  side  has  only  Greenwich  Park  of  185  acres  of 
Royal  Park,  and,  exclusive  of  that,  there  are  quite  2169 
acres,  as  against  1875  of  the  municipal  areas  on  the 
northern  side,  when  the  Crown  land  is  deducted.  Besides 
these,  there  are  226  acres  maintained  by  the  Borough 
Councils ;  so  in  round  numbers  London  has  about 
5721  acres  of  open  space.  These  figures  are  only  rough 
estimates,  and  do  not  include  all  the  smaller  recreation 
grounds  or  gardens  of  less  than  an  acre. 

These  parks  scattered  around  London  are  enjoyed  by 
hundreds  of  thousands  annually,  and  yet,  to  a  compara- 
tive handful  of  people  who  live  near  Hyde  Park,  they 
are  as  much  unexplored  country  as  the  regions  of  Tim- 
buctoo.  The  bicycling  craze  of  ten  years  ago  suddenly 
brought  Battersea  Park  into  fashion  ;  but  the  miles  of 
crowded  streets,  with  their  rushing  trams  and  top-heavy 
omnibuses,  put  a  considerable  bar  between  the  "  West 
End  "  and  those  more  distant  favoured  spots.     There  is 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  123 

much  variety  in  these  parks,  both  north  and  south,  and 
the  chief  difference  lies  in  their  origin.  When  a  sub- 
urban manor-house,  standing  in  its  own  grounds,  with 
well-timbered  park  and  a  garden  of  some  design,  has 
been  acquired,  a  much  finer  effect  is  produced  than  when 
fields  or  market-gardens  have  been  bought  up  and  made 
into  a  park. 

Finsbury  Park,  for  instance,  was  merely  fields,  while 
Waterlow  has  always  been  part  of  a  private  demesne. 
It  is  the  same  on  the  south  of  the  river.  Brockwell  is  an 
old  park  and  garden.  Battersea  was  entirely  made.  Each 
park  has  features  which  give  it  an  individual  character, 
while  there  is  and  must  be  a  certain  repetition  in  describ- 
ing every  one  separately. 

Many  details  are  of  necessity  more  or  less  the  same  in 
each.  The  London  County  Council  is  responsible  for 
the  greater  number,  and  in  every  case  they  have  thought 
certain  things  essential.  For  instance,  the  band-stand  ;  no 
park,  large  or  small,  is  considered  complete  without  one. 
It  is  hardly  necessary  to  mention  each  individually,  though 
some  are  of  the  ordinary  patterns,  others  more  "rustic" 
in  construction  (as  in  Brockwell  Park),  with  branching 
oak  supports  and  thatched  or  tiled  roofs.  Every  park, 
except  Waterlow,  which  is  too  hilly,  furnishes  ample  area 
for  games.  Cricket  pitches  by  the  dozen,  and  space  for 
numerous  goal-posts  is  provided  for,  in  each  and  ail  of 
the  larger  parks.  Gymnasiums,  too,  are  included  in  the 
requirements  of  a  fully-equipped  park.  Swings  for  the 
smaller  children,  bars,  ropes,  and  higher  swings  for  older 
boys  and  girls,  are  supplied.  Bathing  pools  of  greater  or 
less  dimensions  are  often  added,  the  one  in  Victoria 
Park  being  especially  large  and  crowded.  Then  the  larger 
parks  have  green-houses,  and  a  succession  of  plants  are  on 


124     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

view  all  the  year  round.  The  chrysanthemum  time  is  one 
specially  looked  forward  to  in  the  East  End  districts. 
Iron  railings  and  paths,  of  course,  are  the  inevitable 
beginnings  in  the  creation  of  a  park,  and  more  or  less 
ambitious  gates.  It  is  only  in  the  larger  ones,  such  as 
Finsbury,  Victoria,  Dulwich,  and  Battersea,  that  carriages 
are  anticipated.  Though  there  is  a  drive  through  Brock- 
well,  and  the  steep  hill  in  Waterlow  might  be  climbed, 
and  the  avenue  in  Ravenscourt  is  wide  enough,  it  is 
evidently  only  foot  passengers  who  are  expected,  as  a 
rule.  Fancy  ducks  and  geese  attract  the  small  children 
on  all  the  ponds,  and  some  parks  have  enclosures  for 
deer  or  other  animals.  Sand  gardens,  or  "  seasides"  for 
children  to  dig  in,  are  also  frequently  included. 

The  larger  parks  are  self-contained — that  is  to 
say,  the  bedding  out  and  all  the  plants  necessary 
for  the  flower-gardens  are  reared  on  the  premises. 
There  is  a  frame-ground  with  greenhouses  attached, 
where  the  stock  is  kept  and  propagated.  Of  course, 
much  depends  on  the  soil  and  locality.  In  some  parks 
the  things  will  stand  the  winter  much  better  than  in 
others,  where  fog  and  smoke  and  damp  work  deadly 
havoc. 

A  great  deal  is  now  done  with  simple,  hardy  flowers, 
which  give  just  as  good  an  effect  as  more  elaborate  and 
expensive  bedding.  Roses  in  the  show  beds  will  do  well 
for  two  or  even  three  years ;  with  a  few  annuals  between 
they  make  charming  effects.  In  Finsbury  Park,  the  dark 
red  roses  with  Canterbury  bells,  and  fuchsias  with  a 
ground  of  alyssum,  were  effective  and  simple.  In  some 
parks  the  spring  plants  will  thrive  all  through  the  winter. 
Beds  of  white  Arabis  with  pink  tulips  between ;  forget-me- 
nots  with  white  tulips ;  mixed  collections  of  auriculas, 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  125 

that  dear  old-fashioned  "  bear's  ears,"  put  in  about  the 
end  of  October,  make  a  little  show  all  the  winter,  and 
produce  a  mass  of  colour  in  spring.  There  is  still  room 
for  improvement  in  the  direction  of  the  planting,  but  of 
late  years  the  war  waged  against  the  monopoly  of  calceo- 
larias, geraniums,  and  blue  lobelias  has,  fortunately,  had 
its  effect  in  a  marked  degree  on  the  London  Parks, 
municipal  as  well  as  royal. 

There  is  apt  to  be  a  great  uniformity  in  the  selection 
of  plants,  more  especially  among  the  trees  and  bushes. 
The  future  should  always  be  borne  in  mind  in  planting, 
and  alas  !  that  is  not  always  the  case.  Anything  that  will 
grow  quickly  is  often  put  in,  whereas  a  little  patience 
and  a  much  finer  effect  would  be  the  result  in  the  end. 
Privet  grows  faster  than  holly,  but  can  the  two  results  be 
compared  ?  There  is  a  very  fine  old  elm  avenue  in 
Ravenscourt ;  trees  which  the  planter  never  saw  in  per- 
fection, but  which  many  generations  have  since  enjoyed. 
But  will  the  avenue  of  poplars  in  Finsbury  Park  have 
such  a  future .?  After  thirty-five  years'  growth  they  are 
considerable  trees,  but  how  long  will  they  last  ?  The 
plane  does  grow  remarkably  well,  there  is  no  denying, 
but  is  it  necessary  for  that  reason  to  exclude  almost  every 
other  tree .?  Ash  trees  thrive  surprisingly.  Some  of  the 
oaks  take  kindly  to  London,  yet  how  few  are  planted. 
Richard  Jefferies,  that  most  delightful  of  writers  on  nature, 
bemoans  the  lack  of  English  trees  in  the  suburban  gardens 
of  London,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  parks  to 
some  extent.  "  Go  round  the  entire  circumference  of 
Greater  London,"  he  writes,  "and  find  the  list  cease- 
lessly repeated.  There  are  acacias,  sumachs,  cedar 
deodaras,  araucarias,  laurels,  planes,  beds  of  rhododen- 
drons, and   so  on."     "If,  again,  search  were  made    in 


126     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

these  enclosures  for  English  trees  and  English  shrubs,  it 
would  be  found  that  none  have  been  introduced." 

It  would  be  even  more  charming  in  a  London  Park 
than  a  suburban  garden  to  plant  some  of  the  delights  of 
our  English  country,  such  as  thorns,  crab  apples,  elder, 
and  wild  roses,  with  horse-chestnuts,  and  hazel.  What  can 
be  more  beautiful  than  birches  at  all  times  of  the  year  ? 
That  they  grow  readily,  their  well-washed  white  stems 
in  Hyde  Park  testify.  Birds,  too,  love  the  native  trees, 
and  some  of  the  songsters,  which  till  lately  were  plentiful 
in  many  parks,  might  return  to  build  if  thus  encouraged. 

There  is  much  monotony  in  the  laying  out  of  all 
these  parks.  The  undulating  green  turf  with  a  wavy 
line  of  bushes  seems  the  only  recognised  form.  A  narrow 
strip  of  herbaceous  plants  is  put  between  the  smutty 
bushes  and  well-mown  turf,  and  the  official  park  flower- 
border  is  produced.  Curving  lines  of  uncertain  direction, 
tortuous  paths  that  carefully  avoid  the  straight  line,  are 
all  part  of  the  generally  received  idea  of  a  correct  outline. 
It  is  always  more  easy  to  criticise  than  to  suggest,  but 
surely  more  variety  would  be  achieved  if  parks  were 
planted  really  like  wild  gardens — the  groups  of  plants 
more  as  they  might  occur  in  a  natural  glade  or  woodland. 
Then  let  the  herbaceous  border  be  a  thing  apart — a  garden, 
straight  and  formal,  or  curved  and  round,  but  not  always 
in  bays  and  promontories  jutting  into  seas  of  undulating 
green.  A  straight  line  occasionally  is  a  great  rest  to  the 
eye,  but  it  should  begin  and  end  at  a  definite  and  tangible 
point.  The  small  Park  in  Camberwell  has  a  little  avenue 
of  limes  running  straight  across,  with  a  centre  where  seats 
can  be  put  and  paths  diverge  at  right  angles.  It  is  quite 
small,  and  yet  the  Park  would  be  exactly  like  every  other 
piece  of  ground,  with  no  particular  design,  without  this. 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  127 

It  gives  a  point  and  centre  to  the  meandering  paths,  and 
comes  as  a  distinct  rehef.  In  Southwark  Park  an  avenue 
is  growing  up  into  fairly  large  trees.  It  seems  stuck  on  to 
the  Park — it  is  not  straight,  but  it  is  not  a  definite  curve, 
and  it  ends  somehow  by  turning  towards  the  entrance  at 
one  end  and  twisting  in  the  direction  of  the  pond  at  the 
other.  So  it  remains  a  shady  walk,  but  not  an  avenue 
with  any  pretension  to  forming  part  of  a  design. 

It  is  not  for  the  formal  only  this  appeal  is  made,  it  is 
for  less  formality  and  more  real  wildness,  also  a  protest 
against  the  monotony  of  the  green  banks,  and  bunches  of 
bushes,  and  meaningless  curves,  too  often  the  only  form 
of  design.  The  aim  in  every  case  must  be  to  have  as 
much  variety  as  possible  without  incongruity,  and  to  make 
the  utmost  use  of  the  ground  ;  to  give  the  most  pleasure 
at  the  least  expense. 

One  of  the  great  difficulties  must  always  be  the 
numbers  of  people  who  enjoy  these  parks.  The  grass 
suffers  to  such  an  extent  that  portions  must  be  periodi- 
cally enclosed  to  recover.  Then  the  children  have  to 
be  kept  at  a  certain  distance  from  the  flowers,  or  the 
temptation  to  gather  one  over-masters  the  fear  of  the 
park-keeper. 

A  green  walk  between  trees  would  be  a  pleasing 
change  from  gravel  and  asphalt  in  a  less-frequented 
part  of  some  park,  but  it  would  doubtless  have  to 
be  closed  in  sections,  or  there  would  soon  be  no  turf 
left ;  but  such  an  experiment  might  well  be  tried. 
The  attempts  in  Brockwell,  Golder's  Hill,  and  Ravens- 
court  at  "  old  English  gardens "  are  most  successful, 
and  a  welcome  change  in  the  monotony,  and  one  has 
only  to  look  at  the  crowded  seats  to  see  how  much 
they  are  appreciated. 


128     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

The  effort  to  make  use  of  the  parks  to  supple- 
ment nature-teaching  in  the  schools  is  also  an  advance 
in  the  right  direction,  and  one  that  could  be  followed 
up  with  advantage. 

The  trials  of  the  climate  of  London,  and  the  hurtful 
fogs,  must  not  be  forgotten  when  criticising.  They 
are  no  new  thing,  and  gardeners  for  two  hundred 
years  have  had  to  contend  with  the  smoke,  and  wage 
war  against  its  effects.  But  the  evil  has,  of  course, 
become  greatly  intensified  during  the  last  fifty  years. 
Fairchild,  the  author  of  the  "City  Gardener,"  in  1722, 
regrets  that  plants  will  not  prosper  because  of  the 
"Sea  Coal."  Mirabeau,  writing  from  London  in  1784, 
deplores  the  fogs  in  England,  and  especially  "  those 
of  London.  The  prodigious  quantity  of  coal  that  is 
consumed,  adds  to  their  consistence,  prolongs  their 
duration,  and  eminently  contributes  to  render  these 
vapours  more  black,  and  more  suffocating — you  feel 
this  when  rising  in  the  morning.  To  breathe  the 
fresh  morning  air  is  a  sort  of  happiness  you  cannot 
enjoy  in  this  immense  Capital."  Yet  in  spite  of  this 
gloomy  picture  there  are  trees  now  within  the  London 
area,  which  were  getting  black  when  Mirabeau  wrote. 
Smuts  are  by  no  means  solely  responsible  for  trees 
dying.  There  are  many  other  contributory  causes. 
The  drainage  and  want  of  water  is  often  a  serious 
danger,  and  bad  pruning  in  the  case  of  the  younger 
trees  is  another.  When  branches  begin  to  die,  it  is  a 
very  safe  and  salutary  precaution  to  lop  them  off,  as 
has  lately  been  done  to  such  a  noticeable  extent  in 
Kensington  Gardens.  But  the  cutting  and  pruning  of 
trees  by  those  employed  by  various  municipal  bodies  is 
often  lamentably  performed.      The  branches  are  not  cut 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  129 

off  clean,  or  to  a  joint,  where  fresh  twigs  will  soon 
sprout  and  fill  in  and  make  good  the  gaps.  Often 
they  are  cut  leaving  a  piece  of  wood,  which  decays 
back  to  the  young  growth,  and  rots  into  the  sound 
part  of  the  tree. 

Some  of  the  worst  enemies  of  the  gardener  are  the 
electric  power-stations.  The  trees  suffer  terribly  from 
the  smoke  they  emit.  Even  healthy  young  shrubs  and 
bushes,  such  as  laurels,  are  destroyed  by  it.  In  a  very 
short  time  they  become  completely  dried  up,  brown,  and 
shrivelled.  In  a  memorandum  on  the  Electric  Power 
and  Supply  Bill  of  1906,  the  First  Commissioner  of 
Works  pointed  out  these  disastrous  effects.  He  says, 
"  The  case  is  not  entirely  one  of  the  emission  or  con- 
sumption of  black  or  sooty  or  tarry  matters.  The 
other  products  of  combustion,  such  as  sulphurous  and 
sulphuric  acid,  with  solid  particles  of  mineral  matter 
or  ash,  are  very  deleterious  to  vegetation."  It  appears 
from  the  report  of  Dr.  Thorpe,  of  the  Government 
Laboratory,  that  the  production  of  sulphuric  acid  could 
be  "  much  diminished,  if  not  entirely  prevented,  by 
pouring  lime-water  on  the  coal  before  it  goes  into  the 
furnaces,  but  from  the  look  of  trees  in  some  neighbour- 
hoods this  precaution  does  not  appear  to  be  taken." 
These  hindrances  are  often  very  disheartening,  and  the 
many  and  serious  difficulties  that  have  to  be  contended 
with,  must  never  be  lost  sight  of  in  any  review  of 
the  parks. 

In  every  case  the  park  is  thoroughly  appreciated  by 
the  inhabitants,  and  no  one  can  overestimate  the 
health-giving  properties  of  these  lungs  of  the  city.  It 
would  be  vain  repetition  to  point  out  the  fact  in  each 
case,   or  to  picture    the    crowds    who    enjoy    them    on 

I 


I30     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Sundays — who  walk  about,  or  lounge,  or  listen  to  the 
bands,  or  to  what  appears  still  more  stimulating,  to  the 
impassioned  harangue  of  some  would-be  reformer  or 
earnest  preacher.  The  densely-packed  audiences,  the 
gesticulations  and  heated  and  declamatory  arguments,  are 
not  confined  to  Hyde  Park.  Victoria  Park  gathers  just 
such  assemblies,  and  every  park  could  make  more  or 
less  the  same  boast.  The  seats  are  equally  full  in  each 
and  all,  and  the  grass  as  thickly  strewn  with  prostrate 
forms.  Perambulators  are  as  numerous  and  children 
as  conspicuous  in  the  north,  south,  and  eastern  parks 
as  in  those  of  the  west. 

In  looking  round  the  parks  it  will  be  well  to  take 
a  glance  at  the  smaller  ones,  then  to  consider  each  of 
the  larger  ones  more  in  detail,  in  every  case  missing 
out  some  of  the  obvious  appendages  which  are 
characteristic  of  all. 

How  pathetic  some  of  these  little  parks  are,  and  what 
a  part  they  play  in  the  lives  of  those  who  live  in  the 
dingy  streets  near.  Take,  for  instance,  one  with  a 
high-sounding  name,  Avondale  Park.  It  is  little  more 
than  ten  minutes'  walk  from  Shepherd's  Bush  Station  or 
Notting  Hill  Gate.  Yet,  on  inquiry  for  the  most  direct 
road,  nobody  can  give  a  satisfactory  answer.  One  man 
will  say,  "  I  have  lived  here  for  years  and  never  heard  of 
it "  ;  another,  "  I  don't  think  it  can  be  in  this  district." 
The  same  would  be  the  result  even  nearer  to  it ;  but  ask 
for  the  recreation  ground,  and  any  child  will  tell  you. 
"Down  the  first  narrow  turning  and  to  the  right  again, 
by  the  pawnbroker  at  the  corner."  It  is  a  melancholy 
shop,  with  the  plain  necessaries  of  life  and  tiny  babies' 
boots  for  sale  on  the  trays  outside  the  door — what  a 
volume  of  wretchedness  and  poverty  those  poor  things 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  131 

bespeak.  A  few  yards  further,  and  the  iron  railings  of 
the  "  Park  "  come  in  view.  The  happy  shrill  voices  of 
children  resound,  the  swings  are  in  full  motion,  the  seats 
well  filled,  and  up  and  down  the  asphalt  walk,  old  and 
young  are  enjoying  themselves.  When  the  band  plays 
the  place  is  packed.  "  I've  calculated  as  many  as  nine 
hundred  at  one  time,"  says  the  old  guardian,  who  is  proud 
of  the  place,  "  and  as  for  the  children,  you  often  can't  see 
the  ground  for  them."  Yes,  this  open  space  of  four  and 
a  quarter  acres  is  really  appreciated.  It  is  difficult  for 
those  in  easier  circumstances  to  realise  what  a  difference 
that  little  patch  of  green,  those  few  bright  flowers,  make 
to  the  neighbourhood,  or  the  social  effect  of  the  summer 
evenings,  when  the  band  and  the  pleasant  trees  offer  a 
counter-attraction  to  the  public-house.  For  some  twelve 
years  this  little  Park  has  been  enjoyed.  Formed  by  the 
vestry,  and  kept  up  by  the  Royal  Borough  of  Kensington, 
it  greatly  pleases,  although  it  scarce  can  be  called  beauti- 
ful. The  centre  is  given  over  to  the  children,  and  the 
boys  have  ample  room,  and  the  girls  and  infants  keep 
their  twenty-four  swings  in  constant  motion.  A  path 
twists  round  the  irregular  plot,  and  most  of  the  way  is 
bordered  by  those  London-loving  plants,  the  iris,  and 
the  usual  groups  of  smutty  bushes.  Along  the  front 
runs  a  wide  asphalt  walk,  well  furnished  with  seats,  a 
band-stand  half  way,  and  a  fountain  at  one  end.  Some 
bedding  out  with  gay  flowers  is  the  attraction  here.  A 
gardener  and  a  boy  keep  it  in  order,  while  for  about  ^^20 
a  year  a  nurseryman  supplies  all  the  necessary  bedding- 
out  plants.  The  old  guardian  sweeps  the  scraps  of 
paper  up  and  sees  the  children  are  not  too  riotous 
at  the  swings.  Thus,  for  no  great  expense,  widespread 
pleasure  is  conferred. 


132     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

The  Embankment  Gardens,  between  Westminster  and 
Blackfriars,  are  much  frequented.  At  all  seasons  of  the 
year  the  seats  are  crowded,  and  now,  with  the  statues, 
bands  playing  in  summer,  refreshment  buffet,  and  news- 
paper kiosk,  they  look  more  like  a  foreign  garden  than 
the  usual  solemn  squares  of  London.  During  the 
dinner-hour  they  are  filled  with  the  printers  from  the 
many  newspaper  offices  near,  and  the  band  was  in  the 
first  instance  paid  for  by  the  Press. 

They  are  divided  into  three  sections,  and  measure 
ten  acres  in  all,  not  including  the  garden  beyond  the 
Victoria  Tower.  The  peace  has  been  utterly  destroyed 
by  the  din  of  trams,  which  are  for  ever  passing  and  re- 
passing, and  it  is  much  to  be  feared  that  the  trees  next 
the  river,  which  were  growing  so  well,  will  not  withstand 
the  ill-treatment  they  have  received — the  cutting  of 
roots  and  depriving  them  of  moisture.  The  Gardens 
are  entirely  on  the  ground  made  up  when  the  Embank- 
ment was  formed,  between  1864  and  1870. 

The  Gardens  were  opened  in  1870,  but  many  improve- 
ments have  since  been  made  in  the  design,  and  various 
statues  put  up  to  famous  men.  One  is  to  John  Stuart 
Mill,  and  at  the  Westminster  end,  one  of  William 
Tyndall,  the  translator  of  the  New  Testament  and  Penta- 
teuch, to  which  translation  is  due  much  of  the  beautiful 
language  of  the  Authorised  Version  of  the  Bible. 

Of  the  old  gardens  and  entrances  to  the  great  houses 
which  stretched  the  whole  length  of  the  river  bank,  from 
Westminster  and  Whitehall  to  the  City,  only  one  trace 
remains.  It  is  the  Water  Gate  of  York  House.  The 
low  level  on  which  it  stands,  below  the  terrace  end  of 
Buckingham  Street,  shows  to  what  point  the  river  rose. 
York  House  was  so  called  as  it  was  the  town  house  of 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  133 

the  Archbishops  of  York,  but  none  of  them  ever  lived 
there  except  Heath,  in  Queen  Mary's  time,  who  was  the 
first  to  possess  it.  It  was  let,  as  a  rule,  to  the  Keepers 
of  the  Great  Seal,  and  Bacon  lived  there.  George  Villiers, 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  pulled  down  most  of  the  old 
house,  and  commenced  rebuilding.  Nothing  now  remains 
but  the  Water  Gate,  supposed  to  be  by  Inigo  Jones, 
although  the  design  is  also  attributed  to  Nicholas  Stone, 
who  built  it.  The  house  and  gardens  were  sold  and 
divided  in  1672.  Buckingham  Street  and  the  streets 
adjoining  are  built  on  the  site,  and  all  that  is  left  is 
the  fine  old  gateway,  with  most  modern-looking  gardens 
between  it  and  the  river,  which  once  flowed  up  to  its 
arches. 

Another  Embankment  recreation  ground  is  the  Island 
Garden,  Poplar,  and  it  is  one  that  is  also  much  appreciated. 
It  was  made  on  some  ground  not  required  for  ship-build- 
ing or  docks  on  the  river  front  of  the  Isle  of  Dogs,  and 
opened  to  the  public  in  1895.  The  idea  of  making  a 
garden  of  it  had  for  some  few  years  been  in  contempla- 
tion, and  as  soon  as  the  necessary  funds  were  found,  this 
space,  somewhat  less  than  three  acres,  was  saved  from 
being  built  over,  and  a  wide  walk  of  about  700  feet 
made  along  the  river  embankment.  The  view  from  the 
seats,  with  which  it  is  plentifully  supplied,  over  towards 
Greenwich  Hospital  and  Park  makes  it  a  really  charming 
promenade.  The  quaint  name  of  this  part  of  London  is 
said  to  be  derived  from  the  fact  that  the  kennels  of  the 
sporting  dogs  of  the  royal  residents  of  Greenwich  Palace 
were  kept  there,  "which  usually  making  a  great  noise, 
the  seamen  and  others  thereupon  called  the  place  the  Isle 
of  Dogs."  This  seems  the  most  plausible  of  the  various 
definitions  of  the  name  of  this  peninsula— for  it  is  only 


134     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

an  island  by  means  of  the  dock  canal,  made  in  1800. 
A  quotation  from  a  play  of  Middleton  and  Dekker, 
in  161 1,  shows  that  then,  at  any  rate,  it  was  associated 
with  actual  dogs. 

''Mo//  Cutpurse :  O  Sir,  he  hath  been  brought 
up  in  the  Isle  of  Dogs,  and  can  both  fawn  like  a 
spaniel  and  bite  like  a  mastiff,  as  he  finds  occasion." 

The  ground  in  those  days  and  until  much  later 
times  was  a  fertile  marsh,  subject  to  frequent  inunda- 
tions, but  affording  very  rich  pasture.  Breaches  in  the 
embankment  occurred  at  intervals  until  a  solid  pile  and 
brick  wall  was  made  in  the  last  century,  above  which 
the  "Island  Gardens"  were  laid. 

Further  along  the  north  bank  of  the  river  there  is 
another  and  a  larger  garden,  kept  up  by  the  London 
County  Council,  although  it  is  in  East  Ham  and  not 
within  the  County  of  London.  This  was  made  on 
the  site  of  the  North  Woolwich  Tea  Gardens,  which 
enjoyed  a  kind  of  popularity  for  some  fifty  years. 
Having  been  started  in  1851,  they  kept  up  their  repu- 
tation for  '*  Baby  Shows,"  "  Beard  Shows,"  and  such- 
like attractions,  until  the  ground  became  too  valuable 
for  building,  and  too  heavily  rated  for  them  to  exist, 
and,  but  for  timely  interference,  this  open  space  would 
have  been  converted  into  wharves. 

The  story  of  the  Bethnal  Green  Gardens  is  very 
different.  Although  it  was  only  in  1891  that  the 
present  arrangements  with  regard  to  keeping  up  the 
Gardens  were  established,  the  15^  acres  of  which  they 
form  part  has  a  long  history.  As  far  back  as  1667 
the  land  was  purchased  by  a  group  of  residents,  who 
collectively  suscribed  £100^  and  by  a  trust-deed  dated 
1690  conveyed  the  land  to  trustees,  to  be  administered 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  135 

for  the  benefit  of  the  poor.  It  had  been  purchased 
and  enclosed,  the  deed  specified,  "for  the  prevention 
of  any  new  building  thereon."  Of  this  ground  9  acres 
form  the  present  Garden ;  on  part  of  the  remainder 
St.  John's  Church  was  built,  and  in  1872  the  Bethnal 
Green  Museum,  an  offshoot  from  South  Kensington, 
was  opened  on  another  section.  The  most  exhaustive 
work  on  Municipal  Parks  says  that  when  the  land 
"  came  into  the  possession  of  the  London  County 
Council "  it  *'  consisted  of  orchard,  paddock,  kitchen 
garden,  and  pleasure  grounds,  all  in  a  rough  and 
neglected  condition."  Under  the  levelling  hand  of 
the  London  County  Council  it  has  been  made  to  look 
exactly  like  every  other  public  garden,  with  *'  orna- 
mental wrought-iron  enclosing  fences,  broad  walks, 
shrubberies,"  and  so  on,  at  a  cost  of  over  ;^5000, 
and  was  opened  in  1895.  There  is  no  trace  of  its 
former  condition,  nothing  to  point  to  its  antiquity  or 
any  difference  in  its  appearance  from  the  most  modern 
acquisition.  Perhaps  after  all  it  is  as  well,  for  among 
the  thousands  of  that  poor  and  crowded  district  that 
use  and  enjoy  it,  there  is  not  one  to  whom  a  passing 
thought  of  the  old  weavers  who  were  settled  there 
when  the  land  was  given,  or  to  whom  the  legend  of 
pretty  Bessee  the  Blind  Beggar's  daughter  of  Bethnal 
Green  would  occur.  Though  the  design  is  prosaic,  the 
gardens  are  made  cheerful  and  gay,  and  if  they  add 
a  gleam  of  brightness  to  the  lives  of  toil  of  those  living 
near  them,  they  must  be  said  to  fulfil  their  purpose. 

Victoria  Park 

Victoria  Park  was  the  first  of  the  modern  Parks  to 
be  laid  out,  and  it  is  the  largest.     When  the  advantage 


136     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

of  an  East  End  Park  was  admitted,  the  work  of 
forming  one  was  carried  out  by  the  Commissioners  of 
Woods  and  Forests.  An  Act  passed  in  1840  enabled 
them  to  sell  York  House  to  the  Duke  of  Sutherland 
(hence  it  became  Stafford  House),  for  ^72,000,  and 
to  purchase  about  290  acres  of  land  in  the  East  End 
in  the  parishes  of  Hackney,  Bethnal  Green,  and  Bow. 
Part  of  this  was  reserved  for  building  improved  dwel- 
lings, and  193  acres  formed  Victoria  Park,  the  laying 
out  of  which  began  in  1842.  Thirty  years  later,  when 
some  of  the  land  adjoining  was  about  to  be  built  on, 
the  Metropolitan  Board  of  Works  bought  some  24  acres 
to  add  to  the  Park,  the  whole  of  which,  including 
the  new  part,  was  under  the  Office  of  Works.  Other 
additions  have  been  made  from  time  to  time,  chiefly 
with  a  view  to  opening  entrances  to  the  Park,  so  as 
to  make  it  as  easy  of  access  as  possible  from  the  crowded 
districts  in  the  direction  of  Limehouse  and  the  docks, 
and  round  Mile  End  Road. 

The  ground  which  the  Park  covers  was  chiefly 
brick-fields  and  market-gardens,  and  Bishop's  Hall 
Farm.  The  latter  place  is  the  only  part  with  any 
historical  association.  The  farm  was  in  the  manor  of 
Stepney,  which  was  held  by  the  Bishops  of  London, 
and  Bishop's  or  Bonner's  Hall  was  the  Manor  House. 
Many  of  the  Bishops  of  London  resided  here  in  early 
days.  Stowe,  in  1598,  referring  to  Bishop  Richard  de 
Gravesend  in  1280,  writes:  "It  appeareth  by  the 
Charter  [of  free]  warren  granted  to  this  Bishop,  that  (in 
his  time)  there  were  two  Woods  in  the  Parish  of  Stebun- 
heth  [Stepney],  pertaining  to  the  said  Bishop  :  I  have 
(since  I  kept  house  for  my  selfe)  knowne  the  one  of 
them  by  Bishops    Hall^  but    now   they    are    both    made 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  137 

plaine  of  wood,  and  not  to  be  discerned  from  other 
grounds."  These  woods  were  on  the  ground  covered 
by  the  Park.  Stowe  notices  in  his  short  accounts  of 
the  Bishops  of  London  that  Ralph  Stratford,  who  was 
Bishop  from  1339  to  1354,  "deceased  at  Stebunhith." 
The  name  Bonner's  Hall  somehow  became  attached  to 
the  Manor  House.  The  same  chronicler  also  records 
that  Bishop  Ridley  gave  the  manors  of  Stepney  and 
Hackney  to  the  King  in  the  fourth  year  of  Edward  VI., 
who  granted  them  to  Lord  Wentworth.  Bonner,  there- 
fore, would  be  the  last  Bishop  who  could  have  resided 
there.  The  old  Manor  House  was  not  destroyed  till 
1 800,  when  part  of  the  material  was  taken  to  build 
a  farm-house,  which  was  cleared  away  when  the  Park 
was  formed. 

The  first  laying  out  of  the  Park  does  not  seem  to 
have  been  altogether  satisfactory.  A  writer  in  1851 
criticises  it  very  severely.  The  roads  and  paths,  he  says, 
were  so  badly  laid  as  to  require  almost  reconstruction. 
The  "  banks  of  the  lake  must  be  reduced  to  something 
like  shape  to  resist  the  wash  of  the  water,"  and  the  re- 
modelling of  the  plantations  will  be  "  a  work  of  time." 
Just  then  Mr.  Gibson  assumed  the  charge  of  the  Park, 
and  even  this  captious  critic  seems  to  have  been  well 
satisfied  that  he  had  "  begun  in  real  earnest "  to  carry 
out  the  necessary  improvements.  Modern  gardeners 
might  not  applaud  all  his  planting  quite  so  enthusiasti- 
cally as  his  contemporaries.  For  instance,  the  rage  for 
araucarias — monkey  puzzles — has  somewhat  subsided, 
though  the  planting  of  a  number  met  with  great  praise 
in  the  Fifties.  Most  of  the  Park  was  planted  with 
discrimination.  In  a  line  with  the  canal  which  forms 
one    boundary,   an    avenue    was    put,   now    a    charming 


138     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

shady  road  with  well-grown  trees.  The  artificial  water 
with  fancy  ducks,  in  which  is  a  wooded  island  with 
a  Chinese  pagoda,  is  a  great  delight  for  boating.  The 
bathing-lake  has  still  greater  attraction,  and   thousands 


Tagoda  on  the  Island,  Victoria  Park 


bathe  there  daily  all  through  the  summer  months. 
It  is  said,  as  many  as  25,000  have  been  counted  on  a 
summer's  morning.  Bedding  out  was  at  its  height 
when  Victoria  Park  was  laid  out,  so  the  flower-garden 
included  some  elaborate  scroll  designs  which  were 
suited  to  the  style  of  carpet-bedding  then  in  vogue. 
Now,  though  less  stiff,  the  formal  bedding  is  well  done, 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  139 

and  attracts  great  attention.  Those  in  the  East  End 
have  just  as  keen  an  appreciation  as  the  frequenters  of 
Hyde  Park,  of  the  display  of  flowers.  The  green-house 
in  winter  is  much  enjoyed,  and  a  succession  of  bright 
flowers  is  kept  there  during  the  dark  months  of  the 
year.     The  children's  sand  garden  is  also  a  delight. 

In  spite  of  its  situation  in  a  densely-populated  district, 
the  feathered  tribes  have  not  quite  deserted  the  Park. 
The  moor-hen  builds  by  the  lake  and  the  ringdove 
nests  in  the  trees.  Though  the  greenfinch  and  the  wren 
have  vanished,  some  songsters  still  gladden  the  world. 
Blackbirds,  thrushes,  and  chaffinches  are  by  no  means 
uncommon.  Some  of  these  latter  get  caught,  and  take 
part  in  the  popular  amusement  of  singing-matches. 
Many  men  in  the  district  keep  chaffinches  in  cages,  and 
bring  them  to  the  Park  on  a  Sunday  morning  that  they 
may  practise  their  notes  in  chorus  with  their  wild 
associates,  and  so  beat  the  caged  bird  of  some  rival. 
Sometimes  the  temptation  is  too  great,  and  the  wild  birds 
are  kidnapped  to  join  the  competition. 

FiNSBURY  Park 

Finsbury  is  second  in  size,  and  second  in  date  of  con- 
struction, of  the  Parks  of  North  London.  It  is  far  from 
Finsbury,  being  really  in  Hornsey,  but  as  the  idea,  first 
expressed  about  1850,  was  to  make  a  Park  for  the 
borough  of  Finsbury,  the  name  was  retained  although 
the  land  acquired  some  years  later  was  somewhat 
remote. 

The  movement  was  first  set  on  foot  when  building 
began  to  destroy  all  the  open  spaces  near  Finsbury  Fields. 
Some  of  these,  like  Spa  Fields,  had  been  popular  places 
of  resort  as  Tea  Gardens,  but  were  being  rapidly  covered 


140     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

with  houses,  and  separating  Finsbury  altogether  from  the 
country.  Many  delays,  owing  to  changes  of  Government, 
occurred  before  the  necessary  legislation  was  accomplished. 
When  the  Metropolitan  Board  of  Works  came  into  being, 
it  took  up  the  scheme,  and  it  was  finally  under  its  auspices 
that  the  land  was  purchased,  and  the  Park,  115  acres  in 
extent,  was  opened  in  1869. 

On  the  highest  point  of  the  ground  there  is  a 
lake,  which  was  in  existence  before  it  became  a  public 
park.  Near  there  stood  Hornsey  Wood  House,  a  Tea 
Garden  of  some  reputation  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
About  the  year  1800  the  old  house  was  pulled  down, 
and  the  new  proprietor  built  another  tavern,  and  converted 
part  of  the  remains  of  Hornsey  Wood  into  an  artificial 
lake  for  boating  and  angling.  This  second  house  existed 
until  it  was  pulled  down  in  1866,  when  the  Park  was  in 
progress.  Hornsey  Wood  was  part  of  the  forest  which 
bounded  London  on  the  north,  and  the  site  of  the  Park 
was  in  the  manor  of  Brownswood,  which  was  held  by  the 
See  of  London. 

Accounts  of  various  incidents  which  are  connected 
with  this  spot  are  given  in  histories  of  Hornsey.  The 
most  picturesque  is  that  in  which  the  ill-fated  little  King 
Edward  V,  is  the  central  figure,  overshadowed  by  his 
perfidious  uncle.  "  The  King  on  his  way  to  London 
[from  Ludlow]  was  on  the  fourth  of  May  met  at  Hornsey 
Park  (now  [1756]  Highgatc)  by  Edmund  Shaw,  the 
Mayor,  accompanied  by  the  Aldermen,  Sheriffs  and  five 
hundred  Citizens  on  Horseback,  richly  accoutered  in 
purple  Gowns ;  whence  they  conducted  him  to  the  City ; 
where  he  was  received  by  the  Citizens  with  a  joy  inex- 
pressible. ...  In  this  solemn  Cavalcade,  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester's  Deportment  was  very  remarkable  ;  for  riding 


MUNICIPAL   PARKS  141 

before  the  King,  uncovered,  he  frequently  called  to  the 
Citizens,  with  an  audible  voice,  to  behold  their  Prince 
and  Sovereign."  What  a  scene  must  the  site  of  Fins- 
bury  Park  have  presented  that  May  morning.  The 
Londoners,  incensed  at  Gloucester's  having  taken  pos- 
session of  the  young  King,  no  doubt  meet  him  with 
distrust  and  anger,  and  while  the  procession  moves  on 
towards  the  City  he  allays  their  suspicions,  acting  a 
part  to  deceive  them. 

The  trees  in  Finsbury  are  beginning  to  grow  up,  and 
the  Park  is  losing  the  new,  bare  look  which  made  it  un- 
attractive in  its  early  years.  Poplars  (fast-growing  trees) 
have  been  largely  used.  That  is  very  well  for  a  beginning, 
but  others  of  a  slower  growth,  but  making  finer  timber, 
are  the  trees  for  the  future.  There  is  nothing  very 
special  to  notice  in  the  general  laying  out  of  the  grounds, 
as  beyond  the  avenue  of  black  poplars  and  the  lake,  there 
are  no  striking  features.  The  view  from  the  high  ground, 
towards  Epping,  adds  to  the  attractions  of  this  useful 
open  space  but  not  very  interesting  Park.  One  of  the 
most  pleasing  corners  is  the  rock  garden,  not  far  from 
the  lake.  The  plants  seem  well  established  and  very 
much  at  home.  The  greenhouses,  too,  are  well  kept 
up,  and  in  the  gloomy  seasons  of  the  year  especially 
are  much  frequented. 

Clissold  Park 

Clissold,  or  Stoke  Newington  Park,  is  one  of  the 
parks  which  has  the  advantage  of  having  been  the 
grounds  of  a  private  house,  and  enjoys  all  the  benefits 
of  a  well-planted  suburban  demesne.  The  old  trees  at 
once  give  it  a  certain  cachet  that  even  County  Council 
railings,   notice-boards,   and  bird-cages    cannot  destroy. 


142     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

It  has  the  additional  charm  of  the  New  River  passing 
through  the  heart  of  it,  and,  furthermore,  the  ground  is 
undulating. 

One  of  the  approaches  to  the  Park  still  has  a  semi- 
rural  aspect  and  associations  attached  to  it.  This  is 
Queen  Elizabeth's  Walk,  with  a  row  of  fine  elm  trees, 
under  which  the  Queen  may  have  passed  as  a  girl  while 
staying  in  seclusion  at  the  manor-house,  then  in  the 
possession  of  the  Dudley  family,  relations  to  the  Earl  of 
Leicester.  Stoke  Newington,  until  lately,  was  not  so 
overrun  with  small  houses  as  most  of  the  suburbs.  In 
1855  it  was  described  as  "  one  of  the  few  rural  villages 
in  the  immediate  environs  [of  London].  Though,  as  the 
crow  flies,  but  three  miles  from  the  General  Post  Office, 
it  is  still  rich  in  parks,  gardens,  and  old  trees."  The  last 
fifty  years  have  quite  transformed  its  appearance.  "  Green 
Lanes,"  which  skirts  the  west  of  the  Park,  though  with 
such  a  rural-sounding  name,  is  a  busy  thoroughfare,  with 
rushing  trams  ;  and,  but  for  Clissold  Park  and  Abney 
Park  Cemetery,  but  little  of  its  former  attractions  would 
remain.  The  Cemetery  is  on  the  grounds  of  the  old 
Manor  House,  where  Sir  Thomas  Abney  lived,  and  '*  the 
late  excellent  Dr.  Isaac  Watts  was  treated  for  thirty-six  years 
with  all  the  kindness  that  friendship  could  prompt,  and 
all  the  attention  that  respect  could  dictate."  The  manor 
was  sold  by  direction  of  Sir  Thomas's  daughter's  will,  and 
the  proceeds  devoted  to  charitable  purposes.  The  old 
church,  with  its  thin  spire,  and  the  new  large,  handsome 
Gothic  church,  built  to  meet  the  needs  of  the  growing 
population,  stand  close  together  at  one  corner  of  the 
Park,  at  the  end  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  Walk,  and  on  all 
sides  the  towers  among  the  trees  form  pretty  and  con- 
spicuous objects.     The  house  in  the  Park,  for  the  most 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS 


H3 


part  disused,  stands  above  the  bend  of  the  New  River, 
which  makes  a  loop  through  the  grounds.  It  is  a  white 
Georgian  house  with  columns,  and  looks  well  with 
wide   steps   and    slope   to    the   water's    edge,  now    alas ! 


Stoke  Newington  Church  from  Clissold  Park 


disfigured  by  high  iron  railings.  The  place  belonged  to 
the  Crawshay  family,  by  whom  it  was  sold.  The 
daughter  of  one  of  the  owners  had  a  romantic  attach- 
ment to  a  curate,  the  Rev.  Augustus  Clissold,  but  the 
father   would    not   allow   the    marriage,    and    kept   his 


144     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

daughter  more  or  less  a  prisoner.  After  her  father's 
death,  however,  she  married  her  lover,  and  succeeded 
to  the  estate,  and  changed  its  name  from  Crawshay 
Farm  to  Clissold  Place.  This  title  has  stuck  to  it, 
although  it  reverted  to  the  Crawshays,  and  in  1886 
was  sold  by  them. 

The  Park  measures  ^2  acres.  There  is  a  small 
enclosure  with  fallow  deer  and  guinea-pigs,  some  artificial 
water,  and  wide  green  spaces  for  games ;  but  the  special 
beauty  of  the  Park  consists  in  the  canal-like  New  River, 
with  walks  beside  it,  and  in  places  foliage  arching  over 
it,  and  the  fine  large  specimen  trees  round  the  house. 
There  are  some  good  cedars,  deciduous  cypress,  ilex, 
thorns,  and  laburnums ;  a  good  specimen  of  one  of  the 
American  varieties  of  oak,  Quercus  palustris  ;  also  acacias 
and  chestnuts — all  looking  quite  healthy. 

Springfield  Park 

Not  very  far  from  Clissold  lies  Springfield  Park,  in 
Upper  Clapton,  opened  to  the  public  in  1905.  It  also 
has  the  advantage  of  being  made  out  of  well  laid  out 
private  grounds.  The  area,  32^  acres,  embraced  three 
residences,  two  of  which  have  been  pulled  down,  while 
the  third,  Springfield  House,  which  gives  its  name  to 
the  Park,  has  been  retained,  and  serves  as  refreshment 
rooms.  The  view  from  the  front  of  the  house  over 
Walthamstow  Marshes  is  very  extensive.  The  ground 
slopes  steeply  to  the  river  Lea,  and  beyond  on  the  plain, 
like  a  lake,  the  reservoirs  of  the  "  East  London  Works," 
now  part  of  the  Metropolitan  Water  Board,  make  a 
striking  picture.  Springfield  House  was,  until  lately, 
one  of  those  pleasant  old-fashioned  residences  of  which 
there    were    many   in   this    neighbourhood,   standing    in 


MUNICIPAL    PARKS  145 

well-planted  gardens  overlooking  the  marshes  and  fertile 
flats  below.  These  delightful  houses  are  becoming  more 
rare  every  year,  and  it  is  fortunate  that  the  grounds  of 
one  of  the  most  attractive  should  have  been  preserved  as 
a  public  park.  The  place  was  well  cared  for  in  old  days, 
as  the  good  specimen  trees  testify.  A  flourishing  purple 
beech  is  growing  up,  also  a  sweet  chestnut  and  several 
birches.  A  very  old  black  mulberry  still  survives, 
although  showing  signs  of  age.  There  are  other  nice 
timber  trees  on  the  hillside,  and  among  the  shrubs  an 
Arbutus  unedo^  the  strawberry  tree,  is  one  of  the  most 
unusual.  This  Park,  though  small,  is  quite  unlike  any 
other,  and  has  much  to  recommend  it  to  the  general  public, 
while  in  the  more  immediate  neighbourhood  it  is  greatly 
appreciated. 

Waterlow  Park 

Undoubtedly  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the  parks  is 
Waterlow,  the  munificent  gift  of  Sir  Sydney  Waterlow. 
Its  situation  near  Highgate,  above  all  City  smoke ;  its 
steep  slopes  and  fine  trees ;  its  old  garden  and  historic 
associations,  combine  to  give  it  a  character  and  a  charm 
of  its  own.  It  is  small  in  comparison  with  such  parks 
as  Victoria,  Battersea,  or  Finsbury,  being  only  29  acres, 
but  it  has  a  fascination  quite  out  of  proportion  to 
its  size.  There  are  few  pleasanter  spots  on  a  summer's 
day,  and  at  any  season  of  the  year  it  would  well  repay  a 
visit.  It  is  especially  attractive  when  the  great  city  with 
its  domes  and  towers  is  seen  clearly  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill.  London  from  a  distance  never  looks  hard  and 
sharp  and  clear,  like  some  foreign  towns.  The  buildings 
do  not  stand  up  in  definite  outline  like  the  churches  of 
Paris  looked  down  upon  from  the  Eiff^el  Tower :    the 

K 


146     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

soft  curtain  of  smoke,  the  mysterious  blue  light,  a 
gentle  reminder  of  orange  and  black  fog,  shrouds  and 
beautifies  everything  it  touches.  On  a  June  day,  when 
the  grass  is  vivid  and  the  trees  a  bright  pale  green, 
Waterlow  Park  is  at  its  best.  The  dome  of  St.  Paul's, 
the  countless  towers  of  Wren's  city  churches,  the  pin- 
nacles of  the  Law  Courts,  the  wonderful  Tower  Bridge, 
dwarfing  the  old  Norman  White  Tower,  all  appear  in 
softened  beauty  behind  the  fresh  verdure,  through  well- 
contrived  peeps  and  gaps  in  the  trees. 

Most  of  the  ground  is  too  steep  for  the  cricket  and 
football  to  which  the  greater  part  of  other  parks  are  given 
over.  Only  lawn  tennis  and  bowls  can  be  provided  for,  on 
the  green  lawns  at  the  top  of  the  Park.  A  delightful 
old  pond,  with  steep  banks  overshadowed  by  limes  and 
chestnuts,  has  a  feeling  of  the  real  country  about  it.  The 
concrete  edges,  the  little  patches  of  aquatic  plants  and  neat 
turf,  are  missing.  The  banks  show  signs  of  last  year's 
leaves,  fallen  sticks,  and  blackened  chestnuts,  and  any  green 
near  it,  is  only  natural  wild  plants  that  enjoy  shade  and 
moisture.  It  is  the  sort  of  place  a  water-hen  would  feel 
at  home  in,  and  not  expect  to  meet  intruding  Mandarin 
ducks  or  Canadian  geese.  Let  us  hope  this  quiet  spot 
may  long  remain  untouched.  There  are  two  nev^er  lakes 
lower  down,  laid  out  in  approved  County  Council  style, 
trim  and  neat,  with  water-fowl,  water-lilies,  and  judi- 
cious planting  round  the  banks  of  weeping  willows  and 
rhododendron  clumps.  Probably  many  visitors  find 
them  more  attractive  than  the  upper  pool.  There  is 
no  fault  to  find  with  them,  and  they  are  perhaps  more 
suited  to  a  public  park,  but  they  are  devoid  of  the 
poetry  which  raises  the  other  out  of  the  commonplace. 
As  the  slopes  towards  the  lower  lakes  are  the  playground 


MUNICIPAL   PARKS  147 

of  multitudes  of  babies,  it  is  necessary  to  protect  them 
from  the  water's  edge  by  substantial  railings,  but  most 
of  the  Park  is  singularly  free  from  these  unsightly  but 
often  necessary  safeguards.  The  trees  all  through  the 
grounds  are  unusually  fine.  Four  hickories  are  par- 
ticularly worthy  of  note.  They  are  indeed  grand  and 
graceful  trees,  and  it  is  astonishing  they  should  be  so 
little  planted.  These  are  noble  specimens,  and  look 
extremely  healthy. 

The  most  characteristic  feature  in  the  Park  is  the 
house  it  contains  and  the  garden  immediately  round  it. 
This  was  built  for  Lauderdale,  the  "  L"  in  the  Cabal  of 
Charles  II.,  probably  about  1660.  When  this  unattrac- 
tive character  was  not  living  there  himself,  he  not  un- 
frequently  lent  it  to  Nell  Gwynn.  The  ground  floor  of 
the  house  is  open  to  the  public  as  refreshment  rooms, 
and  one  empty  parlour  with  seats  has  much  good  old 
carving,  of  the  date  of  the  house,  over  the  mantelpiece, 
also  in  a  recess  which  encloses  a  marble  bath  known  as 
*'  Nell  Gwynn's  bath."  It  is  said  to  have  been  from  a 
window  in  Lauderdale  House  that  she  held  out  her  son 
when  Charles  was  walking  below,  threatening  to  let  him 
drop  if  the  King  did  not  promise  to  confer  some  title 
upon  him.  In  response  Charles  exclaimed,  "  Save  the 
Earl  of  Burford,"  which  title  (and  later,  that  of  Duke 
of  St.  Albans)  was  formally  conferred  upon  him. 

The  terrace  along  which  the  King  was  walking  is  still 
there.  A  little  inscription  has  been  inserted  on  a  sun-dial 
near  the  wall,  to  record  the  fact  that  the  dial-plate  is  level 
with  the  top  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  A  flight  of  steps 
leads  to  a  lower  terrace.  This  is  planted  in  a  formal 
design  consisting  of  three  circles,  the  centre  one  having 
a  fountain.     Two  more  flights  of  steps  descend,  in  a  line 


148     LONDON    PARKS   &    GARDENS 

from  the  fountain,  to  a  broad  walk  bordered  with  flowers 
leading  to  one  of  the  entrances  to  the  Park.      At  right 
angles  to  the  other  steps  a  walk  leads  from  the  fountain 
to  another  part  of  the  garden,  which  is  planted  with  old 
fruit-trees  on  the  grassy  slope.     It  is  at  the  foot  of  these 
steps  that  the  water-colour  sketch  is  taken.    The  "  eagles 
with  wings  expanded  "  are  the  supporters  of  the  Lauder- 
dale arms.    The  whole  garden  is  delightful,  and  so  much 
in  keeping  with  the  house  that  it  is  easy  to  picture  the 
much-disliked  Lauderdale,  the  genial  King,  and  fascinat- 
ing "Nell,"  living  and  moving  on  its  terraces.     Pepys 
gives  a  glimpse  of  one  of  these  characters  at  home.     He 
drove  up  alone  with  Lord  Brouncker,  in  a  coach  and  six. 
No   doubt   the   hill  made  the  six  very  necessary,  as  in 
another  place  Pepys  talks  of  the  bad  road  to  Highgate. 
They  joined  Lord  Lauderdale  "  and  his  lady,  and  some 
Scotch  people,"  at  supper.     Scotch  airs  were  played  by 
one  of  the  servants   on   the  violin ;   "  the  best  of  their 
country,  as  they  seemed  to  esteem  them,  by  their  praising 
and  admiring  them :  but,  Lord  !   the  strangest  ayre  that 
ever  I  heard  in  my  life,  and  all  of  one  cast.     But  strange 
to  hear  my  Lord  Lauderdale   say  himself  that  he  had 
rather  hear  a  cat  mew,  than  the   best   musique    in   the 
world  ;    and   the  better  the   musique,  the  more  sick   it 
makes  him ;    and  that  of  all  instruments,  he  hates  the 
lute    most,   and    next    to   that    the    baggpipe."      These 
sentiments    may    not    prove    that    Lauderdale    was    "  a 
man  of  mighty  good   reason  and  judgement,"  as  Lord 
Brouncker  assured  Pepys  when   he  said  he   thought  it 
"  odd   company,"    but    at    least    it    shows  him   honest ! 
How   many  people   who  sit  patiently    through    a    per- 
formance of  the  "  Ring  "  would  have  as  much  courage 
of  their  opinions  ? 


'ARDENS 


broad  walk  ^d  with 

:ne  entrances  to  t; 
walk  leads 

,   j.^ .-  ^,-. den,  which  i^  ^ 

ces  on  the  grassy  slope.  It  is  at  ti 
^'eps  that  the  water-colour  sketch  is  taken.  1  he  *'eagU> 
with  wings  expanded"  are  the  supporters  of  the  l.>auder- 
dale  arms.  The  whole  garden  is  delightful,  and  so  much 
in  keeping  with  the  house  that  it  is  easy  to  picture  the 
much-disliked  Lauderdale,  the  genial  King,  and  fascinat- 
ing "Nell,"  liv"  crraces.  Pepv^ 
gives  a  r^i'"^'  •  ■  ^^ -^•^i^r.  He 
drove  i.  :nd  six. 
No  doubt 

> 

^         of  the  sc 

(_,country,  as  they  seemed  to  esteem  them,  by  their  praising 
^i)d  admiring  them:  but,  Lord  !  the  strangest  ayre  that 
H'jver  I  heard  in  my  life,  and  all  of  one  cast.  But  strange 
^  hear  my  Lord  Lauderdale  say  himself  that  he  had 
rather  hear  a  cat  mew,  than  the  best  musique  in  the 
''  ^     '      '    *^'er  the   musique,  the  more  sick   it 

i:  of  all  instruments,  he  b-r   .  *hr 
ext    to    that    the    baggpij 
ot    prove    that    Laud^ 
reason  and  ju  ' 
-pys  when   he  n 

but   at    least   it   si  est! 

ie   who  sit  patient'  a    per- 

Ring  "  would   '  JiCh  courage 


lut 

sen. 

man  c 

Brounc 

"odd 

How 

formance 

of  their  op 


MUNICIPAL   PARKS  149 

Within  the  grounds  of  the  present  Park,  near  Lauder- 
dale House,  stood  a  small  cottage  in  which  Andrew 
Marvel  lived,  which  was  only  pulled  down  in  1869.  It 
was  considered  unsafe,  and  no  National  Trust  Society 
was  then  in  existence  to  make  efforts  for  its  preservation. 
In  a  "History  of  Highgate"  in  1842  the  connection 
between  the  place  and  this  curious  personage,  political 
writer,  poet.  Member  of  Parliament,  and  friend  of  Milton 
is  barely  commented  on.  "Andrew  Marvel,  a  writer 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  resided  on  the  Bank  at  High- 
gate  in  the  cottage  now  occupied  by  Mrs.  Walker."  The 
reader  of  these  lines  is  penetrated  with  a  feeling  that  he 
ought  to  know  all  about  Mrs.  Walker,  rather  than  the 
obscure  writer  ! 

The  kitchen-garden  is  large,  with  charming  herba- 
ceous borders,  and  a  long  row  of  glass-houses  and  vineries, 
and  the  grapes  produced  have  hitherto  been  given  to 
hospitals.  Let  us  hope  that  the  same  complaint  will  not 
arise  here  as  in  another  Park,  where  out-door  fruit  was 
distributed,  and  caused  such  jealousies  that  the  practice 
was  discontinued. 

With  such  a  high  standard  set  by  the  existing  gardens, 
it  is  curious  that  the  new  bedding  should  be  as  much  out 
of  harmony  as  possible.  The  beds  which  call  forth  this 
remark  are  those  round  the  band-stand.  The  shape  of 
them  it  is  impossible  to  describe,  for  they  are  of  uncertain 
form  and  indistinct  meaning.  The  flowers  are  in  bold 
groups,  and  yet  they  look  thoroughly  out  of  place. 

Wandering  one  summer's  day  near  the  statue,  erected 
to  Sir  Sydney  Waterlow,  the  writer  overheard  some  girls, 
who  looked  like  shop-girls  out  for  a  holiday,  discussing 
who  it  was.  The  most  enterprising  went  up  and  read 
the  inscription.     "To  Sir  Sydney  H.  Waterlow,  Bart., 


I50     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

donor  of  the  Park  1889,  Lord  Mayor  of  London 
1 872-73.  Erected  by  public  subscription  1 900."  '*  Why, 
it's  to  some  chap  that  was  once  Lord  Mayor,"  was  the 
remark  to  her  friend,  following  a  close  scrutiny  of  this 
bald  inscription.  The  impulse  to  explain  the  meaning  of 
the  word  "  donor  "  was  irresistible  ;  it  was  evidently  quite 
Greek  to  these  two  Cockney  young  ladies.  On  learning 
the  meaning  they  were  very  ready  to  join  in  a  tribute  of 
gratitude  to  the  giver  of  such  a  princely  present.  Surely 
a  few  words  expressing  such  a  feeling  would  have  been 
appropriate  on  the  statue  so  rightly  erected  in  memory 
of  the  gift  !  Profound  feelings  of  thanks  to  the  giver 
must  indeed  be  experienced  by  every  one  who  has 
the  privilege  of  enjoying  this  lovely  Park,  one  of  the 
most  charming  spots  within  easy  reach  of  the  heart 
of  the  City. 

Golder's  Hill  Park 

Golder's  Hill  Park  joins  the  western  end  of 
Hampstead  Heath,  but  its  park-like  appearance  and 
house  and  garden  are  quite  a  contrast  to  the  wilder 
scenery  of  the  Heath,  although  Golder's  Hill  seems 
more  in  the  country  than  Hampstead,  as  the  houses 
near  are  so  well  hidden  from  it.  The  mansion  has 
a  modern  exterior,  although  parts  of  it  are  very  old, 
and  the  fine  trees  in  the  grounds  show  that  it  has 
been  a  pleasant  residence  for  some  hundreds  of  years. 
The  estate  of  36  acres  was  bought  in  1898  from  the 
executors  of  Sir  Spencer  Wells,  the  money  in  the  first 
instance  being  advanced  by  three  public-spirited  gentle- 
men, anxious  to  save  the  charming  spot  from  the  hands 
of  the  builder.  The  view  from  the  terrace  of  the  house, 
which  now  serves  as  a  refreshment  room,  is  very  pretty, 


MUNICIPAL   PARKS  151 

with  a  gently  sloping  lawn  in  front,  park-like  meadows, 
and  fine  trees  beyond  the  dividing  sunk  fence,  and  distant 
peeps  of  the  country  towards  Harrow.  The  approach 
from  the  Finchley  Road  is  by  an  avenue  of  chestnuts,  and 
a  flat  paddock  on  one  side  is  a  hockey  and  cricket-ground 
for  ladies.  There  are  some  really  fine  oaks,  good  beeches, 
ash,  sycamore,  Spanish  chestnuts,  and  Scotch  firs  ;  but  the 
most  remarkable  tree  is  a  very  fine  tulip,  which  flowers 
profusely  nearly  every  year.  At  the  bottom  of  the  Park 
an  undisturbed  pond,  with  reedy  margin,  is  much  fre- 
quented by  moor-hens.  The  valley  above  is  railed  ofi^  for 
some  red  deer,  peacocks,  and  an  emu,  while  three  storks 
are  to  be  seen  prancing  about  under  the  oak  trees  in  the 
open  Park.  The  most  attractive  corner  is  the  kitchen- 
garden,  which,  like  the  one  in  Brockwell,  has  been  turned 
into  an  extremely  pretty  flower-garden.  On  one  side  is  a 
range  of  hothouses,  where  plants  are  produced  for  bed- 
ding out,  and  a  good  supply  of  fruit  is  raised  and  sold 
to  the  refreshment-room  contractor  on  the  spot.  Two 
sides  have  old  red  walls  covered  with  pear  trees,  which 
produce  but  little  fruit,  and  the  fourth  has  a  good 
holly  hedge.  The  vines  from  one  of  the  vineries  have 
been  planted  out,  and  they  cover  a  large  rustic  shelter, 
and  have  picturesque  though  not  edible  bunches  of 
grapes  every  year.  The  way  the  planting  of  roses, 
herbaceous  and  rock  plants,  and  spring  bulbs  is  arranged 
is  very  good ;  but  the  same  misleadingly-worded  notice 
with  regard  to  the  plants  of  Shakespeare  is  placed  here 
as  in  the  Brockwell  "  old  English  garden."  ^  There 
is  a  nice  old  quince  and  other  fruit-tree  standards  in 
this  really  charming  garden.  In  another  part  of  the 
grounds   there  is  an  orchard,   not  **  improved"   in   any. 

^  See  p.  171. 


152     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

way,  but  left  as  it  might  be  in  Herefordshire,  with  grass 
and  wild  flowers  under  the  trees,  which  bear  bushels  of 
ruddy  apples  every  year. 

Part  of  the  Park  is  actually  outside  London,  but  it  is 
all  kept  up  by  the  London  County  Council.  The  parish 
boundary  of  Hampstead  and  Hendon,  which  is  also  the 
limit  of  the  County  of  London,  is  seen  in  the  middle 
among  the  oak  trees. 

Ravenscourt  Park 

Ravenscourt  is  another  of  those  parks  the  nucleus  of 
which  was  an  old  Manor  House,  hence  the  existence 
of  fine  old  trees,  which  at  once  lift  from  it  the  crudeness 
which  is  invariably  associated  with  a  brand-new  Municipal 
Park.  A  bird's-eye  view  of  the  ground  is  familiar  to 
many  who  pass  over  the  viaduct  in  the  London  and 
South-Western  trains.  These  arches  intersect  one  end  of 
the  Park,  and  cut  across  the  beginning  of  the  fine  old 
elm  avenue,  one  of  its  most  beautiful  features.  A  bright 
piece  of  garden,  typical  of  every  London  Park,  with  raised 
borders  in  bays  and  promontories,  jutting  into  grass  and 
backed  by  bushes,  lies  to  the  south  of  the  viaduct. 
Where  two  paths  diverge  there  is  a  pleasing  variation  to 
the  usual  type — a  sun-dial — erected  by  Sir  William  Bull 
to  "  a  sunny  memory."  The  arches  have  been  utilised 
so  as  to  compensate  for  the  intrusion  of  the  railway. 
Asphalted  underneath,  they  form  shelters  in  wet  weather 
— one  is  given  over  to  an  aviary,  two  to  bars  for  the 
elder  children  to  climb  on,  and  one  is  fitted  with  swings 
for  the  -babies.  This  arch  is  by  far  the  most  popular, 
and  it  requires  all  the  vigilance  of  the  park-keeper  to  see 
that  only  the  really  small  children  use  the  swings,  or 
the  bigger  girls  would  monopolise  them.     Perhaps  the 


MUNICIPAL   PARKS  153 

indulgent  and  fatherly  London  County  Council  will 
provide  swings  for  the  elders,  too,  some  day,  and  so 
remove  the  small  jealousies. 

To  the  west  of  the  long  avenue  lies  the  orchard.  A 
stretch  of  grass,  devoted  to  tennis-courts  and  bowling- 
greens,  separates  the  pear  trees  from  the  walk.  These 
pears  and  the  solitary  apple  tree  are  delightful  in  spring, 
and  a  temptation  in  autumn.  Round  the  house,  which 
is  not  by  any  means  as  picturesque  as  the  date  of  its 
building  (about  1649)  would  lead  one  to  expect,  are  some 
good  trees — planes  that  are  really  old,  with  massive 
stems,  horse-chestnuts  and  limes,  acacias  that  have  seen 
their  best  days,  cedars  suffering  from  age  and  smoke, 
and  a  good  catalpa.  The  Manor  House  which  preceded 
the  present  building  was  of  ancient  origin.  In  early 
times  it  was  known  as  the  Manor  House  of  Paddenswick, 
or  Pallenswick,  under  the  Manor  of  Fulham,  and  was 
the  residence  of  Alice  Perrers,  the  favourite  of  Ed- 
ward III.  It  was  seized  in  1378,  when  she  was  banished 
by  Richard  II. ;  but  after  the  reversion  of  her  sentence, 
she  returned  to  England  as  the  wife  of  Lord  Windsor, 
and  the  King,  in  1380,  granted  the  manor  to  him.  It  is 
not  heard  of  again  till  Elizabeth's  time,  when  it  belonged 
to  the  Payne  family,  and  was  sold  by  them  in  1631  to 
Sir  Richard  Gurney,  the  Royalist  Lord  Mayor,  who. 
perished  in  the  Tower.  After  his  death  it  was  bought 
by  Maximilian  Bard,  who  probably  pulled  down  the  old 
house  and  built  the  present  one,  which  is  now  used  as 
the  Hammersmith  Public  Library.  In  the  eighteenth 
century  the  name  was  changed  from  Paddenswick  (a 
title  preserved  by  a  road  of  that  name  running  near  the 
Park)  to  Ravenscourt,  an  enduring  recollection  of  the 
device  of  a  black  raven,  the  arms  of  Thomas  Corbett, 


154     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Secretary  to  the  Admiralty,  who  owned  the  place  for  a 
few  short  years.  Nearly  every  vestige  of  the  surround- 
ings of  the  old  manor  was  obliterated  and  improved  away 
by  Humphrey  Repton,  the  celebrated  landscape  gardener. 
He  filled  up  most  of  the  old  moat,  except  a  small  piece, 
which  was  transformed  into  a  lake,  more  in  harmony 
with  the  landscape  school  to  which  he  belonged.  This 
piece  of  water  is  a  pretty  feature  in  the  Park,  and  an 
attempt  has  been  made  to  recall  the  older  style,  by  intro- 
ducing a  little  formal  garden  in  an  angle  of  the  enclosing 
wall  of  the  Park.  The  square  has  been  completed  with 
two  hedges,  one  of  them  of  holly,  and  good  iron  gates 
afford  an  entrance.  The  *'  old  English  garden,"  from 
which  dogs  and  young  children,  unless  under  proper 
supervision,  are  excluded,  is  laid  out  in  good  taste — a 
simple,  suitable  design,  with  appropriate  masses  of  roses 
and  herbaceous  plants,  arches  with  climbers,  and  an 
abundance  of  seats.  It  has  the  same  misleading  notice 
with  regard  to  Shakespearian  plants,  as  in  Golder's  Hill 
and  Brockwell,  one  of  the  South  London  Parks,  which 
must  now  be  looked  at. 


CHAPTER     VII 

MUNICIPAL   PARKS   IN   SOUTH   LONDON 

No  freshening  breeze — no  trell'ised  boiver. 
No  bee  to  chase  from  Jloiver  to  Jloiver  ; 
'Tis  dimly  close — in  city  pent — 
But  the  hearts  'within  it  are  well  content. 

— Eliza  Cook. 

F  the  South  London  Parks  Battersea 
is  the  largest  and  most  westerly, 
and  the  best  known  to  people 
outside  its  own  district.  Batter- 
sea  is  entirely  new,  and  has  no 
history  as  a  Park,  for  before  the 
middle  of  last  century  the 
greater  part  was  nothing  but  a 
dismal  marsh.  The  ground  had  to  be  raised  and 
entirely  made  before  the  planting  of  it  as  a  park  could 
begin  at  all.  The  site  was  low-lying  fields  with  reeds 
and  swamps  near  the  water,  and  market-gardens 
famous  for  the  asparagus,  sold  as  "  Battersea  bundles," 
growing  around  it.  In  the  eighteenth  century  three 
windmills  were  conspicuous  from  the  river.  One  ground 
corn,  another  the  colours,  and  the  third  served  to  grind 
the  white  lead  for  the  potteries.  This  was  during 
the  time  when  Battersea  enamel  was  at  its  height,  and 
snufF-boxes   were   being  turned   out   in  quantities.      On 

the  banks  of  the  river  stood  a  tavern  and  Tea  Garden, 

155 


156     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

known  as  the  Red  House  for  many  generations.  It  was 
much  resorted  to,  but  latterly  its  reputation  was  none 
of  the  best.  Games  of  all  kinds  took  place  in  its 
gardens,  and  pigeon-shooting  was  one  of  the  greatest 
attractions  there,  during  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  Although  for  long,  crowds  enjoyed  harmless 
amusements  there — "  flounder  breakfasts,"  and  an  annual 
"  sucking-pig  dinner,"  and  such-like — towards  the  end 
of  the  time  of  its  existence,  it  became  the  centre 
of  such  noisy  and  riotous  merrymakings  that  the 
grounds  of  the  Red  House  became  notorious.  The 
Sunday  fairs,  with  the  attendant  evils  of  races,  gam- 
bling, and  drinking,  were  crowded,  and  thousands  of  the 
less  reputable  sections  of  the  community  landed  every 
Sunday  at  the  Red  House  to  join  in  these  revellings. 
It  was  chiefly  with  a  view  to  doing  away  with  this 
state  of  affairs,  that  the  scheme  was  set  on  foot,  for 
absorbing  the  grounds  of  the  Red  House,  and  other 
less  famous  taverns  and  gardens  that  had  sprung  up 
round  it,  and  forming  a  Park. 

Battersea,  or  "  Patricesy,"  as  it  is  written  in 
Domesday,  was  a  manor  belonging  to  the  Abbey  of 
Westminster  until  the  Dissolution  of  the  Monasteries. 
The  name  is  most  probably  derived  from  the  fact  that 
it  was  lands  of  St.  Peter's  Abbey  "by  the  water." 
Later  on  it  came  into  the  St.  John  family,  and  Henry 
St.  John,  Lord  Bolingbroke,  was  born  and  died  in 
Battersea.  After  his  death  it  was  purchased  by  Earl 
Spencer,  in  whose  family  it  remains.  Part  of  the 
fields  were  Lammas  Lands,  for  which  the  parish  was 
duly  compensated.  The  gloomy  wildness  of  the  fields 
gave  rise  to  superstitions,  and  a  haunted  house,  from 
which   groans    proceeded    and    mysterious    lights   were 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  157 

seen  at  night,  at  one  time  scared  the  neighbourhood, 
and  enticed  the  adventurous.  The  only  historical 
incident,  connected  with  the  fields,  is  the  duel  fought 
there  in  1829  between  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and 
the  Marquess  of  Winchelsea  ;  the  latter  having  person- 
ally attacked  the  Duke  during  the  debates  on  the 
Catholic  Emancipation  Bill.  The  Duke  aimed  his 
shot  through  his  adversary's  hat,  who  then  fired  in 
the  air,  and  the  affair  of  honour  was  thus  settled. 
Battersea  Fields  were  approached,  in  those  days,  by  the 
old  wooden  Battersea  Bridge  which  had  superseded 
the  ferry;  the  only  means  of  communication  till  1772. 
The  present  bridges  at  either  corner  of  the  Park  have 
both  been  built  since  the  Park  was  formed. 

Like    Victoria    Park,    Battersea    was    administered 
with  the  other  Royal  Parks,  in  the  first  instance.     The 
Act    of   Parliament    giving    powers    to   the    "Commis- 
sioners of  Her  Majesty's   Woods"  to  form  the  Park 
was  passed  in  1846,  but  so  much  had  to  be  done  to 
the   land,  that  the  actual   planting  did  not  begin  until 
1857.     The  ground  had  all  to  be  drained,  and  raised, 
and  a  proper  embankment  made  to  keep  out  the  river. 
Just  at  this  time  the  Victoria  Docks  were  being  exca- 
vated, and  the  earth  dug  out   of  them  was   conveyed 
to    Battersea.      Places   were    left,  to  form    the    shallow 
artificial  lake,  mounds  raised,  to  make  the  ground  round 
the  water  undulating,   and  the  rest  of  the  surface  of 
the  Park  levelled.      Altogether  about  a  million  cubic 
yards  of  earth  were  deposited  in  Battersea  Park.     The 
extent    is    198    acres,    and    from    the    nature    of    the 
ground,  except  the  artificial  elevations  near  the  lake,  it 
is  quite  flat.     The  design  was  originally   made  by   Sir 
James  Pennethorne,  architect  of  the  Oflice  of  Works, 


158     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

and  the  execution  of  it  completed  by  Mr,  Farrow. 
The  chief  features,  are  the  artificial  water  (for  the 
most  part  supplied  by  the  Thames),  and  the  avenue 
of  elms  which  traverses  the  Park  from  east  to  west, 
and  cross  walks,  with  a  band-stand  and  drinking- 
fountain  at  the  converging  points.  Round  the  Park 
runs  a  carriage  drive,  and,  following  a  different  line, 
a  track  for  riders — with  the  usual  spaces  for  games 
between.  The  trees  arc  growing  up  well,  so  already 
any  bareness  has  disappeared.  The  absolute  flatness, 
which  makes  the  open  spaces  uninteresting,  is  relieved 
by   the  avenue,   which  will   some   day  be  a   fine   one. 

It  is  an  object-lesson  to  show  the  advantage  of 
avenues  and  shady  walks,  too  often  ignored  by  modern 
park  designers,  or  only  carried  out  in  a  feeble,  half- 
hearted way.  The  chief  variation  in  Battersea  Park 
was  achieved  by  John  Gibson,  the  Park  Superintendent, 
who  made  the  sub-tropical  garden  in  1864.  His  ex- 
perience, gained  on  a  botanical  mission  to  India,  which 
he  undertook  for  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  well  fitted 
him  tor  the  task.  This  garden  has  always  been  kept 
up  and  added  to,  and  specially  improved  in  the  Seven- 
ties, while  the  present  Lord  Redesdale  was  at  the 
Office  of  Works. 

A  sub-tropical  garden  was  quite  a  novelty  when 
first  started  here,  and  caused  much  interest  to  horti- 
culturalists  and  landscape  gardeners.  The  "Sub-tropical 
Garden,"  by  W.  Robinson,  and  other  writings  on  the 
subject,  have  since  made  the  effects  which  can  be  pro- 
duced familiar  to  all  gardeners;  but  in  1864  to  group 
hardy  plants  of  a  tropical  appearance,  such  as  aralias, 
acanthus,  eulalias,  bamboos,  or  fan  palms,  was  a  new 
idea.       During    the   summer,    cannas,   tobacco,    various 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  159 

palms,  bananas,  and  so  on,  were  added  to  the  collection, 
and  caused  quite  an  excitement  when  they  first  appeared 
at  Battersea.  The  garden  is  still  kept  up,  and  looks 
pretty  and  cool  in  summer,  and  on  a  cold  winter's 
day  is  sheltered  and  pleasant.  But  much  of  the 
charm  and  originality  of  the  early  planting  has  been 
lost,  in  the  present  official  idea  of  what  sub-tropical 
gardens  should  contain,  which  carries  a  certain  stereo- 
typed stiffness  with  it. 

In  1887  the  Park,  at  the  same  time  as  Victoria 
and  Kennington,  was  given  up  to  the  Metropolitan 
Board  of  Works,  and  since  then  the  control  has  passed 
to  its  successor,  the  London  County  Council.  The 
gardens  are  kept  up,  more  or  less,  as  before,  with  a 
few  additions.  An  aviary  with  a  restless  raven,  fat 
gold  and  silver  pheasants,  and  contented  pigeons, 
delights  the  small  children,  who  are  as  plentiful  in 
Battersea  as  in  all  the  other  London  playgrounds. 
Like  the  other  parks,  Saturdays  and  Sundays  are  the 
great  days.  The  games  of  cricket  are  played  as  close 
together  as  possible,  until  to  the  passer-by  the  elevens 
and  even  the  balls  seem  hopelessly  mixed.  The  ground 
not  devoted  to  games  is  thickly  strewn  with  prostrate 
forms,  and  certainly,  in  this,  Battersea  is  by  no  means 
singular  !  In  autumn,  one  of  the  green-houses,  in  which 
the  more  tender  sub-tropical  plants  are  housed  is  given 
up  to  chrysanthemums.  This  flower  is  the  one  of 
all  others  for  London.  It  will  thrive  in  the  dingiest 
corners  of  the  town,  and  display  its  colours  long  after 
the  fogs  and  frosts]  have  deprived  the  parks  and  gardens 
of  all  other  colour.  The  shows  in  the  East  End  testify 
to  what  can  be  achieved,  even  by  the  poorest,  with 
this   friendly   plant.     Every   year    at   Shoreditch   Town 


i6o     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

Hall  the  local  exhibition  takes  place,  and  there  are 
many  similar  institutions,  where  monster  blooms,  grown 
on  roofs  or  in  small  back  gardens,  would  compete 
creditably  at  a  national  show.  The  popularity  of  the 
chrysanthemums  in  Battersea  Park  is  so  great,  that 
on  a  fine  Sunday  there  is  a  string  of  people  waiting 
their  turn  of  walking  through,  stretching  for  fifty 
yards  at  least  from  the  green-house  to  the  entrance  to 
the  frame-ground.  Certainly  the  arrangement  of  the 
green-house  is  prettily  done.  The  stages  are  removed, 
and  a  sanded  path  with  a  double  twist  meanders  among 
groups  of  plants  sloping  up  to  the  rafters,  and  a  few 
long,  lanky  ones  trained  to  arch  under  the  roof.  The 
show  is  much  looked  forward  to,  and  the  colours  and 
arrangements  compared  with  former  years,  praised  or 
criticised,  such  is  the  eager  interest  of  those  who  crowd  to 
take  their  turn  for  a  peep.  It  is  delightful  to  watch  the 
pleasure  on  all  faces,  as  a  whole  family  out  for  their  Sunday 
walk,  press  in  together.  It  is  only  one  more  instance 
of  the  joy  the  London  Parks  bring  to  millions  of  lives. 

The  world  of  fashion  has  only  attacked  Battersea 
Park  spasmodically.  When  it  was  new,  and  the  sub- 
tropical garden  a  rarity,  people  drove  out  from  May- 
fair  or  Belgravia  to  see  it.  Again  Battersea  became 
the  fashion  when  the  cycling  craze  began.  In  the 
summer  of  1895  ^^  suddenly  became  "the  thing"  to 
bicycle  to  breakfast  in  Battersea  Park,  and  ladies  who 
had  never  before  visited  this  South  London  Park 
flocked  there  in  the  early  mornings.  It  was  away 
from  the  traffic  that  disturbed  the  beginner  in  Hyde 
or  St.  James's  Park,  and  perhaps  the  daring  originality 
of  cycling  seemed  to  demand  that  conventions  should 
further  be  violated ;    and   nothing  so   commonplace   as 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  i6i 

Hyde  Park  would  satisfy  the  aspirations  of  the  newly- 
emancipated  lady  cyclists.  What  would  their  ancestors, 
who  had  paced  the  Mall  in  powder  and  crinolines, 
have  said  to  the  short-skirted,  energetic  young  or  even 
elderly  cyclist  ?  No  doubt  some  of  that  language 
which  shocks  modern  ears,  used  by  the  heroines  in 
"Sir  Charles  Grandison,"  would  have  been  found  equal 
to  the  occasion.  The  great  cycling  rage  is  over,  and 
Battersea  is  again  deserted  by  fair  beings,  who  now 
prefer  to  fly  further  afield  in  motors,  but  the  Park 
is  just  as  crowded  by  those  for  whose  benefit  it  was 
really  made — the  ever-growing  population  of  London 
south  of  the  river. 

Vauxhall  Park 

Going  east  from  Battersea  the  next  Park  is  Vauxhall, 
a  small  oasis  of  green  in  a  crowded  district.  Although 
only  8  acres  in  extent,  it  is  a  great  boon  to  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  hundreds  of  children  play  there  every  day. 
It  has  been  open  since  1891,  the  land,  occupied  by  houses 
with  gardens,  having  been  acquired  and  the  houses  de- 
molished, and  the  little  Park  is  owned  and  kept  up  by 
Lambeth  Borough  Council. 

It  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  famous  Vauxhall 
Gardens,  to  which  the  rank  and  fashion  of  the  town 
flocked  for  nearly  two  hundred  years ;  and  the  country 
visitor  to  Vauxhall  Park  could  hardly  speak  of  it  in  such 
glowing  terms  as  Farmer  Colin  to  his  wife  in  174 1  of 
the  famous  Vauxhall  Spring  Gardens : — 

"  O  Mary  !    soft  in  feature, 

I've  been  at  dear  Vauxhall ; 
No  paradise  is  sweeter, 
Not  that  they  Eden  call. 


1 62     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

"  Methought,  when  first  I  entered, 
Such  splendours  round  me  shone, 
Into  a  world  I  ventured 
Where  rose  another  sun." 

The  site  of  these  Gardens,  which  covered  some  twelve 
acres  with  groves,  avenues,  dining-halls,  the  famous 
Rotunda  and  caverns,  cascades  and  pavilions,  is  now  all 
built  over.  It  lay  about  as  far  to  the  south-east  of 
Vauxhall  Bridge  as  the  little  Park  is  to  the  south-west. 
In  name  Vauxhall  sounds  quaint  and  un-English.  In 
earlier  times  it  was  known  as  Foxhall,  or  more  correctly 
Foukeshall,  from  Foukes  de  Breant,  who  married  a  sister 
of  Archbishop  Baldwin  in  the  latter  half  of  the  twelfth 
century. 

The  land  of  the  present  Park  was  purchased  in  May 
1889.^  Then  it  was  covered  by  houses  standing  in 
their  own  grounds.  The  largest  of  these  was  Carroun 
or  Caroone  House,  which  had  been  built  by  Sir  Noel  de 
Caron,  who  was  Ambassador  of  the  Netherlands  for 
thirty-three  years,  during  the  reigns  of  Elizabeth  and 
James  I. — the  others,  a  row  of  eight  with  gardens,  were 
known  as  "  The  Lawn."  In  front  of  them  was  a  long 
pond,  said  to  have  been  fed  by  the  Effra  River.  This 
stream,   which  rose  in   Norwood   and    flowed    into    the 

1  As  Vauxhall  is  not  included  in  Lieut. -Col.  Sexby's  exhaustive  book, 
the  following  details  are  not  very  accessible.  It  was  bought  from  Mr. 
Cobeldick  for  ^43,500. 

Made  up  by  Lambeth  Vestry ^^  11,746  17  6 

„          Charity  Commissioners    .     .     .     12,500  o  o 

„          London  County  Council  .     .     .     11,746  17  6 

„          Donations  and  other  sources     .       7,506  5  o 

^43,500     o     o 

The  fencing  and  laying  out  was  done  by  the  Kyrle  Society.  The  Park 
was  opened  by  the  present  King  and  Queen,  July  7,  1890. 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  163 

Thames  at  Vauxhall,  has,  like  most  of  the  other  streams 
of  London,  become  a  sewer,  and  the  pond  is  no  more. 
In  one  of  these  houses  (51  South  Lambeth  Road)  Mr. 
Henry  Fawcett  resided,  and  when  the  houses  were  pulled 
down  to  form  the  Park  his  was  left,  the  intention  being 
to  make  it  into  some  memorial  of  him.     It  was  found  to 
be  too  much  out  of  repair  to  retain,  and  had  to  be  pulled 
down.     With  the  sum  which  the  sale  of  materials  from 
the  old  house  realised,  it  was  proposed  to  erect  a  memorial 
drinking-fountain.     This  idea  bore  fruit,  as  Sir  Henry 
Doulton  sold  one  to  the  vestry  for  less  than  one-third  of 
its  value,  and  moreover  gave  a  further  memorial  to  the 
courageous  blind  Postmaster-General  of  a  portrait  statue 
by    Tinworth,    with     appropriate     allegorical     figures. 
This    fine    group    recording    the    connection   of   Henry 
Fawcett  with  the  place  is  the  most  conspicuous  feature 
of  the  Park.     The  trees  are  growing  up,  and  an  abund- 
ance of  seats  and  dry  walks  made  it  an  enjoyable  if  not 
beautiful    garden.      The    swings    and    gymnasiums    are 
numerous    and  large,  but  what   gives  most   pleasure  is 
the  sand-garden  for  little  children.    For  hours  and  hours 
these  small  mites  are  happily  occupied  digging  and  making 
clean  mud  pies,  while  their  elders  sit  by  and  work.     It  is 
touching  to  see  the  miniature  castles  and  carefully  patted 
puddings  at  the  close  of   a  busy  baby's  day.     In  the 
summer,  when  the  sand  is  too  dry  to  bind,  some  of  the 
infants   bring  small  bottles,   which  they  manage  to  get 
filled  at  the  drinking-fountain,  and  water  their  little  hand- 
fuls  of  sand.    These  children's  sand-gardens,  common  in 
parks  in  the  United  States,  are  a  delightful  invention  for 
the  safe  amusement  of  these  small  folk,  and  the  delight 
caused  by  this  one,  which  was  only  made  in  1905,  shows 
how  greatly  they  are  appreciated.     Many  of  the  parks 


1 64     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

and  some  of  the  commons  now  have  their  "  sea-side '  or 
"  sand-pit,"  and  probably  not  only  do  they  give  immense 
pleasure,  but  they  act  as  a  safety-valve  for  small  mis- 
chievous urchins,  who  otherwise  could  not  resist  tres- 
passing on  flower-beds. 

The  grass  in  this,  as  in  all  the  parks,  has  to  be  en- 
closed at  times,  to  let  it  recover,  the  tramp  of  many  feet. 
The  wattled  hurdles  which  are  often  used  in  the  London 
Parks  for  this  purpose,  have  quite  a  rustic  appearance. 
They  are  like  those  which  appear  in  all  the  agricultural 
scenes  depicted  in  fifteenth  century  MSS.  It  is  much  to 
be  hoped  that  no  modern  invention  in  metal  will  be 
found  to  take  their  place. 

Kennington  Park 

Not  very  far  from  Vauxhall,  beyond  the  famous 
Oval,  lies  the  larger  and  more  pretentious  Kennington 
Park  of  I9|-  acres.  This  has  a  long  history  as  Kennington 
Common.  It  formed  part  of  the  Duchy  of  Cornwall 
estates,  having  been  settled  by  James  I.  on  Prince  Henry, 
and  has  since  belonged  to  each  succeeding  Prince  of 
Wales.  In  still  earlier  times  there  was  a  Royal  Palace 
at  Kennington,  which  fell  into  decay  after  Henry 
VIII. 's  reign.  Here  as  on  all  similar  commons,  the 
people  had  a  right  of  grazing  cattle  for  six  months  of 
the  year.  But  the  moment  it  was  open  to  them  in  the 
spring  such  a  number  of  beasts  were  turned  on  to  the 
ground,  that  in  a  very  short  time  "the  herbage"  was 
"  devoured,  and  it  remained  entirely  bare  for  the  rest  of 
the  season." 

The  Common  was  a  great  place  for  games  of  all  sorts, 
particularly  cricket.  When  in  1852  it  was  turned  into 
a  Park,  and  play  could  not  go  on  to  the  same  extent,  by 


SOUTH    LONDON   PARKS  165 

suggestion  of  the  Prince  Consort,  a  piece  of  land,  then 
market-gardens,  was  let  by  the  Duchy  to  the  Surrey 
Cricket  Club,  which  was  formed  for  the  purpose  of 
maintaining  it.  This  is  the  ground  that  has  since 
gained  such  notoriety  as  the  Oval,  the  scene  of  many 
a  match  historical  in  the  annals  of  cricket.  The 
Common,  too,  was  famous  for  the  masses  that  collected 
there  to  hear  Whitfield  preach.  His  congregations 
numbered  from  10,000  to  40,000  persons,  and  his 
voice  would  carry  to  the  "extremest  part  of  the 
audience."  He  notes  in  his  diary,  Sunday,  May  6, 
1 73 1 — "At  six  in  the  evening  went  and  preached  at 
Kennington  ;  but  such  a  sight  I  never  saw  before.  Some 
supposed  there  were  above  30,000  or  40,000  people,  and 
near  fourscore  coaches,  besides  great  number  of  horses  ; 
and  there  was  such  an  awful  silence  amongst  them,  and 
the  Word  of  God  came  with  such  power,  that  all  seemed 
pleasingly  surprised.  I  continued  my  discourse  for  an 
hour  and  a  half."  The  last  time  he  preached  there  was 
a  farewell  sermon  before  he  went  to  America  in  August 

1739. 

Two  other  incidents  are  connected  with  Kennington 

Common,  neither  so  pleasant — the  scenes  of  the  execu- 
tion for  high  treason,  with  all  the  attendant  horrors, 
of  the  "  Manchester  rebels "  after  the  '45  ;  and  the 
great  Chartist  revolutionary  meeting  under  Feargus 
O'Connor  in  1848.  The  precautions  taken  by  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  saved  the  situation,  and  the 
200,000  people  who  it  had  been  proposed  should 
march  to  Westminster  melted  away,  and  the  whole 
thing  was  a  fiasco. 

It  was  soon  after  this  episode  that  the  Common  was 
converted  into  a  Park.     The  ground,  including  all  the 


1 66     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Common  and  the  site  of  the  Pound,  was  handed  over 
by  the  Duchy  of  Cornwall  (by  Act  of  Parliament), 
to  be  laid  out  as  "  Pleasure  grounds  for  the  recreation 
of  the  public ;  but  if  it  cease  to  be  so  maintained " 
to  "  revert  to  the  Duchy." 

The  transformation  has  been  very  successful,  and  the 
design  was  suitable  and  well  conceived.  The  large  greens 
are  divided  by  wide  paths  shaded  by  trees,  and  each 
section  can  be  closed  in  turn  to  preserve  the  grass.  There 
is  a  sunk  formal  garden,  bedded  out  with  bright  flowers, 
which  show  up  well  on  the  green  turf;  and  at  one 
end  there  are  shrubberies  with  twisting  walks  in  the 
style  that  is  truly  characteristic  of  the  English  Park,  and 
seems  to  appeal  to  so  many  people.  The  whole  space  is 
not  large,  but  the  most  is  made  of  it,  and  both  the  formal 
and  the  "  natural "  sections  have  their  attractions.  At 
the  "  natural "  end,  near  the  church — which,  by  the  way, 
was  built  as  a  thank-offering  after  Waterloo — is  a  hand- 
some granite  drinking  -  fountain,  designed  by  Driver, 
and  presented  by  Mr.  Felix  Blade  ;  and  in  the  centre  of 
the  Park  is  a  fountain,  given  by  Sir  Henry  Doulton, 
with  a  group  of  figures  by  Tinworth,  emblematic  of 
"  The  Pilgrimage  of  Life."  The  Lodge  was  the  model 
lodging-house  erected  by  the  Prince  Consort  in  the 
Great  Exhibition  of  185 1. 

Myatt's  Fields 

Myatt's  Fields  or  Camberwell  Park  is  but  a  short 
distance  to  the  south-west  of  Kennington.  This  Park 
of  14^  acres  was  one  of  those  princely  gifts  which 
have  been  showered  on  the  inhabitants  of  London.  It 
was  presented  by  Mr.  William  Minet,  in  whose  family 
the   land    has   been   since    1770.       His   ancestors   were 


v^.  4^:^;pif«* 


Fountain  by  Tinworth,  Kennington  Park 


1 68     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Huguenots  who  had  come  to  England  at  the  time  of 
the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes. 

It  was  handed  over  to  the  newly-formed  County 
Council  in  1889,  having  been  previously  laid  out.  The 
way  in  which  this  was  done  with  an  avenue,  which  will 
some  day  be  one  of  the  great  beauties  of  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  which  is  in  the  meantime  a  pleasant  shady 
walk,  has  already  been  commented  on.  For  its  size, 
Myatt's  Fields  is  one  of  the  most  tasteful  of  the  new 
parks.  Its  quaint  name  is  a  survival  of  the  time 
when  the  ground  was  a  market-garden  leased  by  a 
certain  Myatt  from  1818-69.  The  excellent  qualities 
of  the  strawberries  and  rhubarb  raised  there,  gave  the 
Fields  such  a  good  reputation  in  the  district,  and  the 
name  became  so  familiar,  that  it  was  retained  for  the 
Park. 

Camberwell  Green  is  a  distinct  place,  not  far  distant, 
and  is  noticed  among  the  village  greens  of  London. 

RusKiN  Park 

Ruskin  Park,  the  newest  of  all  the  parks,  is  not  very 
far  from  Camberwell,  and  has  been  formed  of  a  cluster  of 
houses,  with  grounds  of  their  own,  on  Denmark  Hill, 
known  as  the  Sanders'  Estate.  The  name,  which  has  an 
"  Art  Nouveau  "  sound  about  it,  and  raises  an  expectation 
of  something  beautiful,  was  given  to  it  because  John 
Ruskin  for  many  years  lived  in  the  neighbourhood.  From 
1823,  when  he  was  four,  to  1843,  his  home  was  28  Heme 
Hill,  and  there  he  wrote  "  Modern  Painters."  From  then 
until  1 87 1  he  lived  even  nearer  the  present  Park,  at  163 
Denmark  Hill.  Describing  the  house,  Ruskin  wrote  of 
it :  "  It  stood  in  command  of  seven  acres  of  healthy 
ground  .  .  .  half  of  it    meadow   sloping   to    the    sun- 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  169 

rise,  the  rest  prudently  and    pleasantly  divided  into   an 
upper    and    lower    kitchen  -  garden  ;    a    fruitful    bit    of 
orchard,   and  chance  inlets  and   outlets    of  wood  walk, 
opening    to    the    sunny    path    by    the    field,   which    was 
gladdened  on  its  other  side  in  springtime  by  flushes  of 
almond  and  double  peach  blossom."     Such  might  have 
been    the    description   of   the   houses  and   grounds  now 
turned    into    a    park.      Some   of   the   lines  of   the  villa 
gardens  have  been  retained,  and  some  wise  and  necessary 
additions  and  changes  have  been  made  to  bring  the  whole 
together;  but   even   the    inspiration   of  Ruskin  has   not 
kept  out  the  inevitable  edges  and  backbones  of  uninterest- 
ing evergreens.    Some  of  the  green-houses  have  been  kept, 
but  six  dwellings  have  been  demolished,  and  one  of  the 
two  retained  will  be  used  as  a  refreshment  room.     The 
outside  wall  of  the  garden  front  of  one,  covered  with 
wistaria,  has  been  left,  facing  its  own  little  terrace  and  lawn 
and  cedars,  and  soon  after  the  opening,  in  February  1907, 
many  people  found  it  was  possible  to  get  sun  and  shelter 
and  enjoy  the  prospect  from  the  seats  in  front  of   the 
ruined    drawing-room    windows.     The  dividing  wall  of 
two  houses  has  been  cleverly  turned  into  what  will  be  a 
charming  pergola,  and  below,  the  ground  has  been  levelled 
to  form  a  bowling-green.     The  terraces  and  steps  from 
one  level  to  another  are  a  pleasing  feature  in  the  design. 
The  ground  is  not  yet  finished,  and  it  is  greatly  to  be 
hoped  that  the  usual  clumps  of  evergreens  will  not  be 
multiplied,  but  Ruskin  s  description  borne  in  mind,  and 
let  there  be  almonds  and  double  peaches  to  gladden  the 
spring,  and  not  drooping,  smutty  evergreens,  or  "ever 
blacks,"  as  they  might  be  more  fittingly  called,  to  jar  on 
the  picture  of  fresh  young  growth.     The  pond,  a  stiff 
oval,  has  had  to  have  the  necessary  iron  railings,  and  the 


I/O     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

trees  near  it  have  been  substantially  barricaded  with  rustic 
seats — a  most  important  addition.  The  avenue  of  chest- 
nuts which  crosses  the  open  part  of  the  ground  has  been 
left ;  and  there  are  other  good  young  trees  growing  up, 
and  a  fine  old  ilex  and  mulberry.  There  is  already 
a  question  of  adding  a  further  12  acres  to  this  Park, 
which  is  24  acres  at  present,  but  the  scheme  is  still 
under  consideration. 

Brockwell  Park 

Those  who  want  a  change,  from  the  roar  and  bustle 
of  streets,  can  attain  their  object  very  quickly  by  the 
expenditure  of  a  few  pence  and  fifteen  minutes  in  the 
train.  Getting  out  at  Heme  Hill  Station,  in  a  few 
seconds  the  gates  of  Brockwell  Park  are  reached.  The 
old  trees  and  undulating  ground  are  all  that  could  be 
desired,  but  the  chief  attraction,  and  the  object  that  well 
repays  a  visit,  is  the  old  walled  garden.  It  is  a  high 
brick  enclosure,  with  fine  old  trees  peeping  above,  and 
festoons  of  climbing  plants  brightening  the  dull  red 
walls.  The  narrow  paths,  running  in  straight  lines 
round  and  across,  are  here  and  there,  spanned  by  rustic 
arches  covered  with  roses,  or  clematis,  or  gourds,  from 
which  hang  glowing  orange  fruit  in  autumn.  In  the 
centre  of  the  garden  a  small  fountain  plays  on  to  moss- 
grown  stones,  and  on  a  hot  summer's  day  the  seats, 
shaded  by  the  luxuriant  Traveller's  Joy,  make  a  cool 
resting-place,  though  not  so  sequestered  as  the  arbours 
in  the  angles  of  the  wall,  darkened  by  other  climbers. 
The  rest  of  the  garden  is  a  delightful  tangle  of  herbaceous 
plants.  All  the  old  favourites  are  there,  and  a  small 
notice  near  the  entrance  announces  to  those  in  search  of 
knowledge  that  the  garden  contains  all  herbs  and  garden 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  171 

plants  mentioned  in  Shakespeare's  works.  A  little  know- 
ledge is  a  dangerous  thing,  and  the  unwary  might  not 
realise  that  the  flowers  of  Shakespeare's  time,  although 
undoubtedly  there,  only  form  a  small  portion  of  the 
whole  display.  The  board  is  literally  true,  but  visitors 
are  apt  to  go  away  with  the  idea  that  brilliant  dahlias, 
and  gaudy  calceolarias,  or  even  the  most  modern  intro- 
duction, Kochia  tricophila^  were  friends  of  Shakespeare's  ! 
A  large  number  of  the  plants,  however,  are  truly  of  the 
Elizabethan  age,  that  golden  time  of  progress  in  garden- 
ing as  well  as  of  other  arts,  when  spirited  courtiers  and 
hardened  old  sailors  alike  scoured  the  seas  and  brought 
strange  plants  from  new  lands.  Many  of  these  now 
familiar  treasures  from  east  and  west  flourish  in  this  little 
enclosure,  and  recall  the  romantic  days  of  the  sixteenth 
century :  the  Marvel  of  Peru — the  very  name  tells  the 
delight  that  heralded  its  arrival  from  the  West — the 
quaint  Egg-plant  {Solanum  ovigerum)  brought  from 
Africa,  and  the  bright-seeded  Capsicums  from  India. 
Even  the  bush,  with  its  wealth  of  white  or  purple  flowers, 
the  Hibiscus  Syriacus,  was  known  in  those  days,  though 
not  by  that  name.  Gerard,  in  describing  it,  says  it  was 
a  stranger  to  England  ;  "  notwithstanding,  I  have  sowen 
some  seedes  of  them  in  my  garden,  expecting  successe." 
That  delightful  confidence,  which  is  the  great  charac- 
teristic of  all  these  old  gardeners,  was  not  abused,  appa- 
rently, in  this  case,  for  two  years  later,  in  the  catalogue 
of  plants  in  his  garden,  1599,  this  great  tree  mallow  was 
flourishing.  Many  of  the  gourds,  which  are  grown  to 
great  advantage  in  this  little  garden,  were  also  known  at 
an  early  date.  Gerard  says  of  them,  *'  they  joy  in  a 
fruitful  soil,  and  are  common  in  England."  Were  it  not 
for  the  conspicuous  little  notice-board,  no  fault  could  be 


172     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

found  with  the  selection  of  plants  which,  from  early 
spring  till  late  autumn,  brighten  this  romantic  little 
garden.  The  Solanum  jasminoides  is  none  the  less 
graceful  because  it  has  only  found  a  home  in  sheltered 
corners  in  England,  for  the  last  seventy  years.  Cob^ea 
scandens,  which  festoons  very  charmingly  some  of  the 
arches,  is  certainly  an  old  friend,  having  been  over  a 
hundred  years  in  this  country ;  but  it  is  a  new-comer 
when  compared  with  the  Passion  Flower  growing  in 
profusion  near  it,  and  even  that  did  not  appear  until 
after  Shakespeare's  death.  It  was  unknown  to  Gerard, 
but  his  editor,  Thomas  Johnson,  illustrates  it  in  the 
appendix  to  the  edition  of  1633.  It  had  then  arrived 
from  America,  "  whence  it  hath  been  brought  into 
our  English  gardens,  where  it  growes  very  well,  but 
floures  only  in  some  few  places,  and  in  hot  and  season- 
able yeares  :  it  is  in  good  plenty  growing  with  Mistresse 
Tuggy  at  Westminster,  where  I  have  some  years  seene 
it  beare  a  great  many  floures."  Mistress  Tuggy  and 
her  friend  would  have  rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  the 
house  in  the  centre  of  Brockwell  Park  on  a  warm 
October  day,  thickly  covered  with  the  golden  fruit  as 
well  as  star-like  flowers  of  their  precious  "  Maracoc  or 
Passion-floure." 

This  delightful  walled  garden  was  the  old  kitchen- 
garden.  Luckily,  the  fashion  for  the  gardens  of  a  past 
generation  was  growing  at  the  time  the  Park  was  pur- 
chased, and  the  London  County  Council  must  be  con- 
gratulated on  the  good  taste  displayed  in  dealing  with  it. 
The  history  of  the  acquisition  of  the  ground  is  soon  told. 
The  desire  for  a  park  in  this  neighbourhood  led  those 
interested  to  try  and  arrange  to  buy  Raleigh  House  in 
the  Brixton  Road,  with  some  10  acres  of  land,  for  about 


OLD  ENGLISH  GARDEN,  BROCKWELL  PARK 


plants  iriy 

Kten    this 
.    jayrninoides    is 
-s  only  found  a  hoi. 
I,  for  the  last  seventy  ye^ 
-    festoons  very  charmingly  s* 
?   ccriainly  an  old   friend,  having   b 
■  years  in  this  country;  but  it  is  a 
when    compared    with    the    Passion   Flower  growing   in 
profusion   near  it»  and  even  that   did  not  appear  until 
after  Shakespeare's   ^     '         '  .•--.-   to  Gerard, 

but    his  editor.  T  it    in    the 

appendix  t'  "en  arrived 

fror 


ggy  at  Wc5  ne 

It  beare   a   grc.u    :::*.:.)    lic^aic... 

her  friend  would  have  rejoiced  _.  ...~  -t,--  -•  -.e 
house  in  the  centre  of  Brockwell  Park  on  a  warm 
October  day,  thickly  covered  with  the  golden  fruit  as 
well  as  star-like  flowers  of  their  precious  "  Maracoc  or 
Passion-floure." 

This  del'frhtful  walled  garden  was  the  old  ki'tchcn- 
^ar.'  he  fashion  for  the  gardens  of  a  past 

genera;  '  -g  at  the  time  the  Par-. 

chas    '  n  County  Council  r 

grat  taste  displayed  in  . 

The  history  cquisition  of  the  gr 

The  desire  for  a    ;  '       '  '     ne'p;hh 

interestedXJIA^  JJ3W:XDQ^ff^iVIHa^AO  H2IJ01^3  a  JO 

the  Brixton  K^vad,  witn  some  lo  .^ 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  173 

;^40,ooo.     Having  got  an  Act  of  Parliament  to  allow 
this,  Brockwell  Park  came  into  the  market  with  a  ready- 
made  park  of  78  acres.     The  Act  of  1888  was  repealed, 
and  eventually  a  sum  of  nearly  ^^  120,000  was  spent  on 
the   purchase    of  Brockwell,  which  was  opened  to  the 
public  in  1892.     Near  the  entrance  gates,  close  to  Heme 
Hill  Railway  Station,  a  drinking-fountain,  with  a  graceful 
figure    of  "  Perseverance "  and   portrait  bust,  has  been 
erected  to  Mr.  Thomas  Lynn  Bristowe,  M.P.  for  Nor- 
wood,  who    was    chiefly    instrumental  in   obtaining  the 
Park,  and  whose  death  occurred  with  tragic  suddenness 
at  the  opening  ceremony.      It  is  quite  a  steep  hill   up 
to  the  house,  which  is  of  no  great  antiquity  or  beauty, 
having  been  built  at  the  beginning  of  last  century,  when 
the  older  manor-house  was  pulled  down,  by  Mr.  Blades, 
the  ancestor  of  the  last  owner.     The  view  on  all  sides  is 
extensive,  and  the  timber  is  fine.     There  are  good  old 
oaks,  as  well  as  elms  and  limes ;  and  it  is  satisfactory  to 
see  that,  in  the  recent  planting,  limes  have  been  given  a 
place,  and  not  only  the  overdone  plane.     As  a  contrast 
to  the  delightful  formal  garden,  some  pretty  wild  group- 
ing has  been  carried  out  beside  the  artificial  water.     This 
series  of  ponds  are  an  addition  to  the  Park  as  originally 
purchased.      It  now  measures   84  acres,  and    the    extra 
piece  contained  water,  which  has  been  enlarged  into  a  big 
bathing-pool  and  a  so-called  "  Japanese  garden."     These 
ponds  are  well  arranged  ;  and  although  there  are  various 
kinds  of  ducks  and  geese  and  black  swans,  and  concrete 
edges  and  wire  netting  are  inevitable,  they  are  not  so 
aggressive  as  in  many  parks.     In  places  tall  plants  have 
been  put  in  behind  the  railings  and  allowed  to  hang  over, 
to  break  the  undue  stiffness.     In  the  late  autumn  purple 
Michaelmas   daisies  nearly  touched  the  water,  and  the 


174     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

red     berries    of   the    Pyracantha    overhung    the    ducks 
without  apparent  disagreement. 

The  opening  of  Brockwell  as  a  public  Park  has  had 
the  effect  of  banishing  most  of  the  rooks.  There  was  a 
large  rookery,  but  year  by  year  the  nests  decrease.  In 
1896  there  were  thirty-five  nests,  the  next  year  twenty, 
while  in  1898  there  were  only  eight  or  ten.  Thus  every 
season  they  are  getting  fewer,  but  still,  in  the  spring  of 
1907,  one  pair  of  rooks  were  bold  enough  to  build. 

DuLwicH   Park 

Dulwich  Park  is  not  very  far  from  Brockwell,  but 
its  surroundings  are  more  open.  A  few  of  the  roads 
near  it  have  some  feeling  of  the  country  left.  The 
houses  that  are  springing  up  are  of  a  cheerful  villa 
type,  and  have  nothing  of  the  monotony  and  dulness 
of  most  of  the  suburbs.  Fine  old  trees  grow  along 
many  of  the  roads.  The  chestnuts,  for  instance,  in 
Half  Moon  Lane  between  Heme  Hill  and  Dulwich 
are  charming,  and  also  on  the  further  side  of  the  Park, 
where  the  celebrated  inn,  the  "Green  Man,"  was  situated, 
there  is  a  rural  aspect  and  a  delightful  walk  between 
trees.  It  was  within  the  grounds  of  the  "  Green  Man  " 
that  the  Wells  of  chalybeate  water  were  situated.  The 
Wells  had  been  discovered  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II., 
and  the  water  sold  in  London,  but  the  "  Green  Man  '* 
did  not  become  a  popular  resort  until  after  1739.  A 
story  connected  with  this  popular  spa  is  recorded  in  the 
"Percy  Anecdotes"  in  1823.  A  well-known  literary 
man  was  invited  to  dinner  there,  and  wished  to  be 
directed.  However,  he  inquired  vainly  for  the  "  Dull 
Man  at  Greenwich,"  instead  of  the  "Green  Man  at 
Dulwich."     One  of  the  entrances  to  the  Park  is  close 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  175 

to  the  site  of  the  once  famous  Wells.  The  Park  itself, 
which  covers  72  acres,  was  the  munificent  gift  of 
Dulwich  College.  The  gift  was  confirmed  by  an  Act 
of  Parliament  in  1885,  and  the  Park  opened  to  the 
public  in  1890.  The  College  was  founded  by  Edward 
AUeyn  in  16 14,  who  called  it  "The  College  of  God's 
Gift."  Originally,  there  were  besides  the  Master, 
Warden,  and  four  Fellows,  six  poor  brethren  and  six 
sisters,  and  thirty  out-members.  The  value  of  the 
property  has  so  enormously  increased  that  the  number 
of  scholars  has  been  very  greatly  added  to,  and  now 
hundreds  of  boys,  some  quite  free,  and  some  for  a  very 
low  fee,  obtain  a  sound  commercial  education.  The 
founder  was  a  friend  of  Shakespeare,  and  one  of  the 
best  actors  of  his  plays  in  the  poet's  lifetime.  His 
early  biographers  go  out  of  their  way  to  refute  the 
alleged  reason  of  his  founding  "  God's  Gift  College," 
namely,  that  when  on  one  occasion  he  was  personating 
the  devil,  the  original  appeared,  and  so  frightened  him 
that  he  gave  up  the  stage  to  devote  himself  to  good 
works.  Were  this  story  true,  the  vision  was  certainly 
well  timed,  and  has  produced  unexpected  and  far-reach- 
ing results.  The  educational  work,  the  picture  gallery, 
and  the  well  laid  out  estate  of  Dulwich  Manor,  including 
the  large  public  Park,  are  all  the  direct  result ! 

There  are  a  few  fine  old  trees  in  the  Park,  particu- 
larly a  row  of  gnarled  oaks  near  the  lake.  This  is  a 
small  sheet  of  water  on  the  side  nearest  the  College.  The 
carriage  road,  which  encircles  the  Park,  crosses  by  a 
stone  bridge  the  trickling  stream,  formed  by  the  over- 
flow from  the  lake.  On  the  south-east  side  of  the  Park 
there  are  but  few  trees,  but  large  masses  of  rhododen- 
drons  and    azaleas    have    been    planted,   which   make    a 


176     LONDON    PARKS    <^   GARDENS 

brilliant    show    in    the    summer.     The   most    distinctive 
feature  is  the  rock   gardening.     There   is  a   very   large 
collection  of  Alpine  and  rock  plants,  which  are  growing 
extremely  well   and   covering   the   stones   with  delicious 
soft  green  cushions,  which  turn  to  pink,  yellow,  white, 
and  purple,  as  the  season  advances.     Even  in  the  cold, 
early  spring,  snowdrops,  and  the  pretty  little  Chionodoxa, 
the  "  Glory  of  the  Snow,"  begin  to  peep  out  amongst 
the  rocks,  and  these  are  the  harbingers  of  a  succession 
of  bloom,  through  the  spring  and  summer  months.     On 
either  side  of  one  of  the  entrances,  a  long  and  pleasing 
line  of  this  rock-work  extends,  but  the  plants  for  the  most 
part  are  grown  on  mounds  like  rocky  islands  rising  up 
from  a  sea  of  gravel.     There  are  several  of  these  isolated 
patches  in  the  middle  of  the  carriage  drive.     It  is  cer- 
tainly fortunate,  for    those   who   only  drive   round    the 
Park,  thus  to  have  a  full  view  of  the   charming   rock 
plants ;    but   to   compare  such    a   display    to    the    rock 
garden  at  Kew  is  misleading.     There  may  be  nearly  as 
many  plants  at  Dulwich   as   at   Kew,   but   the   arrange- 
ment  of  that   charming   little  retired  valley   at  Kew  is 
so  infinitely  superior  that  the  comparison  is  unjustified. 
The    small    stream    which    leaves    the    lake,    and    other 
places  in  the  Park,  offer,  just  as  good  a  foundation  for 
a  really  effective  rock  garden  as  the  one  at  Kew.      Such 
an   arrangement  would  give  a  much  better  idea  of  the 
plants,  in    their    own    homes,  than    the    islands    in    the 
roadway,  that    must    suffer  from   dust,  besides   looking 
stiff  and  unnatural.     It  is,  however,  delightful  to  see  how 
well  these  plants  are  thriving.     This  is^^hardly  astonish- 
ing, as  it  is  not  in   a   crowded,  smoky   district,  but   in 
one   of  the  most  favoured  of  suburbs.      Dulwich  Park 
adds  greatly  to  the  advantages  of  the  neighbourhood  : 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  177 

it  has  not  hitherto  been  crowded,  and  is  by  no  means 
a  playground  of  the  poorest  classes,  but  now  the  advent 
of  electric  trams  and  rapid  communication  may  some- 
what lessen  its  exclusiveness. 

HoRNiMAN  Gardens 

There  are  gardens  of  a  very  different  character  round 
the  Horniman  Museum,  not  far  distant.  This  collec- 
tion, as  well  as  the  g^  acres  of  ground  adjoining  it  on 
Forest  Hill,  were  the  gift  of  the  late  Mr.  J.  F.  Horni- 
man, M.P.,  and  the  garden,  kept  up  by  the  London 
County  Council,  was  opened  in  June  1901.  The  situation 
is  extremely  attractive.  A  steep  walk  up  an  avenue 
from  London  Road,  Forest  Hill,  near  Lordship  Lane 
Station,  leads  to  a  villa  standing  in  its  own  grounds, 
which  is  utilised  for  refreshment  rooms  and  caretaker's 
house,  &c.  The  lawns  descend  steeply  on  three  sides, 
and  on  the  western  slope  there  is  a  wide  terrace,  with 
a  row  of  gnarled  pollard  oaks.  From  this  walk  there 
is  a  wide  and  beautiful  view,  over  the  hills  and  parks, 
chimney-pots  and  steeples  of  South  London,  with  the 
lawns  and  pond  of  Horniman  Gardens  in  front.  On 
this  terrace  a  shelter  and  band-stand  have  been  put 
up,  and  no  more  favoured  spot  for  enjoying  the  open- 
air  town  life,  so  common  on  the  Continent,  but  until 
lately  so  rare  in  England,  can  well  be  imagined.  The 
country  round  is  still  fairly  open,  between  Forest  Hill 
and  Brixton.  Near  the  foot  of  Horniman  Gardens  lies 
Dulwich  Park,  with  the  shady  path  known  as  "  Cox's 
Walk,"  from  the  proprietor  of  the  "  Green  Man,"  and 
the  roads  lined  with  trees  connect  Dulwich  with  Brock- 
well  Park,  Heme  Hill,  so  that  this  corner  of  London  is 
well  supplied  with  trees. 

M 


178    LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Deptford  Park 

Deptford  Park  is  a  complete  contrast  to  the  semi- 
rural  Dulwich.  It  is  in  one  of  the  most  densely-populated 
and  poor  districts,  where  it  is  greatly  needed,  and  has 
been  open  since  1897.  The  site  was  market-gardens, 
and  was  sold  by  the  owner,  Mr.  Evelyn,  below  its  value, 
to  benefit  the  neighbourhood.  It  is  merely  a  square, 
flat,  open  space  of  17  acres,  with  only  a  few  young 
trees  planted  round  the  outskirts.  Near  the  principal 
entrance  in  Lower  Road,  the  approach  is  by  a  short 
walk  between  two  walls.  Along  either  side  of  the  path- 
way, and  for  some  little  distance  to  the  right  and  left, 
after  the  open  space  is  reached,  a  nice  border  of  herba- 
ceous plants  has  been  made  along  the  wall,  and  a  few 
beds  placed  in  the  grass  on  either  side,  and  ornamental 
trees  planted.  Thus  the  entrance  to  this  wide  play- 
ground is  made  cheerful  and  attractive,  and  a  pleasant 
contrast  to  the  grimy  streets  outside. 

Telegraph   Hill 

Between  these  two  extremes  lies  a  small  Park  known 
as  Telegraph  Hill.  It  is  only  9^-  acres,  and  is  cut  in 
two  by  a  road,  but  it  is  very  varied  in  surface.  The 
origin  of  its  name  is  from  its  having  been  a  station 
for  a  kind  of  telegraphy  that  was  invented  before  the 
electric  telegraph  had  been  discovered.  Two  brothers 
Chappe  invented  the  system,  and  were  so  successful  in 
telegraphing  the  news  of  a  victory  in  1793,  that  their 
plan  was  adopted  in  France,  and  soon  throughout 
Europe.  In  Russia  a  large  sum  was  expended  in 
establishing  a  line  of  communication  between  the 
German   frontier  and  St.   Petersburg ;  but  so  slow  was 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  179 

the  building  that  the  stations  were  hardly  at  work 
before  they  were  superseded  by  electricity.  The  signals 
were  made  by  opening  and  shutting  six  shutters,  arranged 
on  two  frames  on  the  roofs  of  a  small  house,  and  by 
various  combinations  sixty-three  signals  could  be  formed. 
The  Admiralty  established  the  English  line,  of  this  form 
of  telegraphy  between  Dover  and  London  in  1795,  and 
the  first  public  news  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo  actually 
reached  London  by  means  of  the  one  on  "Telegraph 
Hill."  The  place  was  well  chosen,  for  even  now,  all 
surrounded  by  houses,  the  hill  is  so  steep  and  conical,  that 
a  very  extensive  view  is  still  obtained.  The  site  of  the 
semaphore  station  is  now  a  level  green  for  lawn  tennis. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  roadway,  the  descent  is  steep  into 
the  valley,  and  there  are  two  small  ponds  at  the  bottom. 
The  cliffs  are  covered  with  turf,  interspersed  by  the  usual 
meaningless  clumps  of  bushes,  and  a  few  nice  trees. 

SouTHWARK  Park 

Southwark  Park  lies  far  away  from  Southwark,  beyond 
Bermondsey,  in  Rotherhithe.  It  was  in  the  parliamentary 
borough  of  Southwark,  hence  the  misleading  name.  The 
Park  is  a  gloomy  enough  place  when  compared  with  the 
more  distant  or  West  End  Parks,  but  a  perfect  paradise  in 
this  crowded  district.  Between  its  creation  in  1864  and 
its  completion  in  1869,  a  great  reformation  was  worked 
in  the  district.  Close  to  the  docks,  and  intersected  by 
streams  and  canals,  with  the  poorest  kind  of  rickety 
houses  so  vividly  described  by  Dickens  in  *'  Oliver  Twist," 
the  surroundings  were  among  the  most  dismal  imagin- 
able. The  actual  site  of  the  Park  was  partly  market- 
gardens,  which  had  for  long  been  established  in  this 
locality    owing    to    the    fertility    of    the    alluvial    soil. 


i8o    LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

Vines  were  grown  here  for  wine  with  success  in  the 
first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  when  there  was  a 
revival  in  grape-growing,  and  vineyards  were  planted 
at  Hoxton  and  elsewhere.  Over  lOO  gallons  of  wine 
were  made  in  a  year  in  Rotherhithe.  Some  of  the 
earth  excavated  from  the  Thames  Tunnel  was  put  on  the 
ground  covered  by  the  Park  before  the  laying  out  com- 
menced. When  the  land,  65  acres,  was  bought,  only 
45  were  to  be  kept  for  the  Park,  and  the  rest  were 
reserved  for  building.  But  when  the  day  of  building 
arrived  there  was  such  an  outcry  that  the  whole  plan 
was  remodelled,  the  drives  which  encircled  it  done  away 
with,  and  tar-paved  paths  substituted,  only  one  driving 
road  crossing  it  being  left,  and  the  ponds  added.  It 
is  more  the  want  of  design,  than  any  special  style,  that  is 
conspicuous,  and  a  good  deal  more  could  have  been  done 
to  make  the  Park  less  gloomy.  An  avenue  is  growing 
up,  but  it  will  never  have  the  charming  effect  of  the  one 
across  Battersea,  as  the  line  is  neither  straight  nor  a 
definite  curve.  The  wild  fowl  on  the  pond  are  such 
an  attraction,  that  perhaps  it  may  be  that  the  wire  netting 
and  asphalt  edges  they  apparently  require  are  not  draw- 
backs, but  they  are  not  beautiful.  The  gateway  into  the 
Park,  near  Deptford  Station,  has  rather  the  grim  look  of 
a  prison,  and  yet,  with  the  forest  of  masts  behind,  all  it 
requires  is  a  climbing  plant  or  two  to  make  a  picture. 
On  the  opposite  end  of  the  Park  runs  Jamaica  Road, 
which  perpetuates  the  name  of  a  well-known  Tea  Garden, 
Jamaica  House.  Pepys  records  a  visit  there,  on  a  Sunday 
in  April  1667.  "  Took  out  my  wife,  and  the  two  Mercers, 
and  two  of  our  maids.  Barker  and  Jane,  and  over  the 
water  to  Jamaica  House,  where  I  never  was  before,  and 
there  the  girls  did  run  for  wagers  over  the  bowling-green ; 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  i8i 

and  there,  with  much  pleasure,  spent  little  and  so  home." 
Pepys'  home  in  Seething  Lane  near  the  Tower  would  be 
an  easy  distance  from  the  Tea  Gardens  of  RedrifF,  as 
Rotherhithe  was  called  then,  and  in  the  days  when  Swift 
made  Gulliver  live  there.  There  were  other  well-known 
Tea  Gardens  near,  the  "  Cherry  Garden,"  *'  Half-way 
House,"  and  at  a  much  later  date  "  St.  Helena's  Gardens," 
which  were  only  closed  in  1881.  The  disappearance  of 
all  the  Tea  Gardens  and  open  spaces  made  the  necessity 
of  a  Park  very  obvious,  and  it  was  to  meet  this  want  that 
Southwark  Park  was  made. 

Maryon  Park 

There  is  one  more  small  Park  to  complete  the  line  of 
South  London  Parks,  for  which  the  public  is  indebted  to 
Sir  Spencer  Mary  on- Wilson,  the  lord  of  the  manor  of 
Charlton,  in  which  parish  it  is  situated.  It  lies  between 
Greenwich  and  Woolwich,  and  the  South-Eastern  Railway 
skirts  the  northern  side.  The  ground  was  chiefly  large 
gravel  pits,  and  has  a  hill  in  the  middle  partly  caused  by 
the  excavations.  This  hill  has  some  pretty  brushwood 
still  growing  on  its  slope,  showing  it  was  once  joined  to 
Hanging  Wood,  a  well-known  hiding-place  of  highway- 
men. It  was  conveniently  thick,  and  there  are  many  tales 
of  pursuit  from  Blackheath  which  ended  by  losing  the 
thieves  in  Hanging  Wood.  The  hill  in  the  Park  is 
locally  known  as  Cox's  Mount,  having  been  rented  by 
an  inhabitant  of  that  name  in  1838,  who  built  a  summer- 
house  there  and  planted  poplars.  The  area  of  the  Park 
is  about  1 2  acres,  and  except  for  one  or  two  trees  on  the 
Mount  and  patches  of  brushwood,  it  is  open  grass.  The 
boys  on  the  Warspite  training  ship  anchored  near  are 
allowed  to  play  cricket  there,  provision  for  this  having 


i82    LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

been  made  by  the  generous  donor  of  the  Park  in  the 
deed  of  gift  to  the  London  County  Council  in  1891. 

Quite  outside  these  crowded  districts,  yet  within  the 
County  of  London,  lie  three  more  Parks  maintained  by 
the  County  Council.  The  one  nearest  the  heart  of 
London  is  Manor  Park,  or  Manor  House  Gardens,  be- 
tween the  High  Road,  Lee,  and  Hither  Green  Station, 
opened  in  1902.  There  are  8i|  acres  here  attached  to  the 
Lee  Manor  House,  a  substantial  building  in  the  Adams 
style,  now  used  as  the  Public  Library.  The  Gardens  slope 
gently  away  from  the  house  to  a  large  pond — or  lake  as 
the  Council  would  prefer  to  call  it — and  beyond  to  a 
rapid  little  stream,  the  Quaggy,  a  tributary  of  the 
Ravensbourne.  Beyond  the  Quaggy's  steep  banks,  well 
protected  by  spiked  railings,  is  a  flat  green  devoted  to 
games.  The  chief  beauty  of  this  little  Park  is  four 
magnificent  old  elms  and  a  few  other  good  trees — 
beech,  chestnut,  Robinia  speudo  acacia^  &c.  In  the 
spring  of  1907  the  pond  was  in  process  of  cleaning,  so 
no  rooks  had  ventured  to  build  within  the  Park,  but 
just  at  the  gates  a  large  elm  in  a  small  garden  had  been 
favoured  by  these  capricious  birds,  and  their  hoarse  voices 
were  making  a  deliciously  countrified  sound. 

The  other  London  County  Council  Parks  are  in  what  is 
still  nearly  open  country,  although  rows  of  villas  are  being 
rather  rapidly  reared  in  the  district.  Eltham  is  one  of 
these.  It  is  at  present  not  enclosed  with  massive  iron 
railings,  but  the  wide,  flat  stretch  of  smooth  turf,  studded 
with  patriarchal  trees,  is  left  untouched,  except  that  a  few 
spaces  have  been  levelled  for  games.  This  Park  of  41 
acres  was  bought  in  1902,  the  Borough  of  Woolwich  pay- 
ing half  the  cost  of  purchase — £^600 — with  the  Council. 

Still   further  into   the   country  is  Avery  Hill,  with 


SOUTH    LONDON    PARKS  183 

the  large  house  and   grounds,  extending  over  84  acres, 
built  and  laid  out  by  Colonel  J.  T.  North.     The  London 
County  Council  were  offered  this  estate  in  1902,  if  pur- 
chased   within    a    certain    limit    of   time,  for   ;^2 5,000. 
Usually  the  Council,  in  making  a  purchase,  have  ascer- 
tained beforehand  what  contributions  the  local  Boroughs 
were  prepared  to  subscribe  towards  the  total  cost,  but, 
on  this  occasion,  the  Boroughs  were  invited  to  share  the 
expense  after  the  purchase  had  been  made,  with  the  re- 
sult  that  all  those   concerned — Camberwell,  Lewisham, 
Greenwich,  Deptford,  and  Woolwich — refused;    so  the 
whole   of  the    purchase   and   upkeep    devolved    on    the 
London   County  Council.      The   large   mansion  is   now 
used   as  a  teachers'  training   college   for  girls,   but  the 
greater  part  of  the  grounds,  and   the  immense  winter 
gardens  are  open  to  the  public.     It  is  still  so  far  from 
the  centres  of  population  that  the  public  who  make  use 
of  these  spacious  gardens  is  very  limited.     The  nearest 
railway  station.  New  Eltham,  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile 
distant  from  the  Park,  and  half-an-hour  or  more  by  train 
from  Charing  Cross.     Although  it  is  now  so  far  into  the 
country,  and  some  people  would  deprecate  the  purchase, 
it  is  only  fair  to  remember  that  most  of  the  crowded 
districts  were  also  country  not  long  ago,  and  that  when 
land  is  dear  and  houses  being  built  is  not  a  favourable 
moment  to  purchase.     As  a  rule  it  is  want  of  foresight 
that  is  the  complaint,  and  not  excess  of  zeal,  as  in  this 
case.      The  garden  is  made  use  of  to  furnish  supplies 
of  plants  to  some  of  the  smaller  parks,  and  a  portion  is 
being  reserved  for  growing  specimens  for  demonstration 
in  the  Council  Schools.     On  the  west  side  of  the  house 
there  are  three  terraced  gardens,  prettily  planted   with 
roses  and  fruit-trees.      In  front  of  the  house  a  sloping 


1 84  LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

lawn,  with  a  few  large  beds,  touches  the  park-like 
meadows  studded  with  trees.  Sheep  feeding  with  their 
tinkling  bells  gives  a  rural  appearance.  To  the  large, 
modern,  very  red  brick  house  is  attached  a  huge  winter 
garden.  This  is  on  a  very  large  scale,  with'  lofty  palms, 
date,  dom,  and  cocoa-nut  growing  with  tropical  luxuri- 
ance in  the  central  house,  with  a  large  camellia  house  on 
one  side  and  a  fernery  with  rock-work,  pools,  and  gold- 
fish on  the  other.  All  this  requires  a  good  deal  of 
keeping  up — nearly  ;^3000  a  year — and  although  it  has 
been  open  now  some  five  years,  it  has  been  enjoyed  by 
few.  It  is  greatly  to  be  hoped  that  it  has  a  much- 
appreciated  future  before  it. 

Such  is  a  slight  sketch  of  some  of  London's  Parks. 
No  doubt  there  is  much  that  could  be  changed  for  the 
better,  both  in  design  and  planting  :  less  sameness  and 
meaningless  formality  without  true  lines  of  beauty  in 
design  would  be  an  improvement.  In  planting,  there 
might  be  more  variety  of  British  trees — alder,  oak,  ash, 
and  hawthorn  ;  and  a  wider  range  of  foreign  ones — limes, 
American  or  Turkey  oaks,  and  many  others  ;  more 
climbing  plants,  such  as  Virginian  creepers,  more  simple 
herbaceous  borders  and  fewer  clumps  of  unattractive 
bushes,  and  more  lilacs,  laburnums,  thorns,  almonds, 
cherries,  and  medlars  in  groups  on  the  grass.  If  greater 
originality  was  displayed  and  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
horticulture  were  shown,  especially  by  the  authorities 
that  supervise  the  largest  number  of  these  parks,  many 
improvements  in  existing  ones  could  be  easily  achieved, 
and  in  forming  new  parks  the  same  idea  need  not  be  so 
rigidly  followed.  But,  in  spite  of  small  defects,  the 
Parks  as  a  whole  are  extremely  beautiful,  and  Londoners 
may  well  be  proud  of  them. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

COMMONS   AND   OPEN   SPACES 

'77j  very  had  in  man  or  ivoman 
To  steal  a  goose  from  off"  the  common. 
But  who  shall  plead  that  mans  excuse 
Who  steals  the  common  from  the  goose  P 

— An  Old  Ditty. 


T  was  only  fifty  years  ago,  when  the 
want  of  fresh  air  and  room  for 
recreation  was  being  realised,  that 
people  began  to  wake  up  to  the 
truth  that  there  were  already  great 
open  spaces  in  London  which  ought 
to  be  cared  for  and  preserved.  It 
was  brought  home  by  the  fact  that 
over  ;^iooo  an  acre  was  being  paid  to  purchase  market- 
gardens  or  fields  so  as  to  transform  them  into  parks, 
while  at  the  same  time  land  which  already  belonged  to 
the  people  was  being  recklessly  sold  away  and  built  over. 
All  through  the  history  of  most  of  the  common  lands 
encroachments  of  a  more  or  less  serious  nature  are  re- 
corded from  time  to  time.  The  exercise  of  common 
rights  also  was  often  so  unrestrained  as  to  inflict  permanent 
injury  on  the  commons.  The  digging  for  gravel  was 
frequently  carried  to  excess,  whins  and  brushwood  were 
cut,  and  grass  over-grazed  until  nothing  remained.     At 

last,  in  1 865,  a  Commons  Preservation  Society  was  formed 

185 


1 86  LONDON  PARKS  &   GARDENS 

with  the  view  of  arousing  public  attention  to  the  subject. 
As  is  often  the  case,  some  people  ran  to  the  opposite 
extreme,  and  wished  to  transform  the  commons  into 
parks  without  giving  compensation  to  the  freeholders 
and  copyhold  tenants,  who  thereby  would  lose  consider- 
able benefits.  In  some  cases  after  the  Metropolitan 
Commons  Act  of  1866  was  passed,  the  Lord  of  the 
Manor,  on  behalf  of  all  the  freeholders,  disputed  the 
right  of  the  Metropolitan  Board  of  Works  to  take 
the  land  without  compensation  to  the  owners.  The 
lord  of  the  manor  was  considered  unreasonable  by  some 
of  the  agitators  for  the  transference  of  the  common  lands 
to  public  bodies,  but  he  was  fighting  the  battle  of  all  the 
small  owners.  The  freeholders  in  some  cases  were  as 
many  as  fifty  for  some  40  acres.  Many  of  the  commons 
were  Lammas  Lands.  The  freeholders,  of  which  there 
were  a  large  number,  had  the  use  of  the  land  from  the 
6th  of  April  until  the  I2th  of  August,  and  the  copyhold 
tenants  of  the  manor  had  the  right  of  grazing  during 
the  remainder  of  the  year.  The  number  of  cattle  each 
could  graze  was  determined  by  the  amount  of  rent  they 
paid,  and  the  grazing  was  regulated  by  the  "  marsh 
drivers,"  men  elected  annually  by  the  courts  of  the 
Manor  for  the  purpose.  A  curious  incident  in  connec- 
tion with  these  rights  happened  on  Hackney  Downs  in 
1837.  The  season  was  late,  and  the  steward  of  the 
Manor  put  up  a  notice  to  the  effect  that  as  the  free- 
holders' crops  were  not  gathered  the  grazing  on  the 
Downs  could  not  begin  until  the  25th,  instead  of  the 
usual  1 2th  of  August.  The  marshes  and  other  common 
lands  in  the  parish  were  open,  so  there  was  actually  plenty 
of  pasture  available  for  those  entitled  to  it.  There  was  a 
fine  crop  of  wheat  on  some  plots  on  the  Downs,  and  on 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES       187 

the  morning  of  Monday  the  14th  August,  "  a  few  persons 
made  their  appearance  and  began  to  help  themselves  to 
the  corn."     Summoned  before  the  magistrates,  the  bench 
decided  that  after  the  usual  opening  day  the  corn  "was 
common    property,  and    could    be    claimed    by   no    one 
parishioner  more  than  another."     On  the  strength  of  this 
decision  the  whole  parish  turned  out,  and  a  terrible  scene 
of  looting  the  crop  took  place,  while  the  poor  owners 
vainly  tried  to  save  what  they  could.     The  freeholder 
with  the  most  wheat,  a  Mr.  Adamson,  lost  over  ;Cioo 
worth,  although  he  worked  all  night  to  save  what   he 
could.     A   case   followed,  as   Mr.  Adamson  prosecuted 
Thomas  Wright,  one  of  the  many  looters  who  thought 
they  had  a  right  to  it,  for  stealing  his  wheat.     This  time 
the  magistrates  fined  the  man  twenty  shillings,  and  half- 
a-crown,  the  value  of  the  wheat  he  had  actually  taken, 
as  he  had  no  right  to  take  away  the  crop,  although  he 
had  a  right  to  put  cattle  on  the  Downs.     Further  trials 
for  riot  before  the  Court  of  Queen's  Bench  resulted  in 
the  prisoners  being   discharged   after   they  had  pleaded 
guilty.     It  appeared  both  the  looters  and  Mr.  Adamson 
were  in  the  wrong.    They  had  no  right  to  remove  the 
corn,  neither  had  he,  after  the   12th  August,  and  those 
who    had    grazing    rights    could    have    turned    on   their 
cattle    to    eat    the    standing    corn.     This    incident    just 
shows   how   the  right  of  freeholders   and    copyholders 
could  not  lightly  be  trifled  with. 

The  report  of  the  Select  Committee  on  Open  Spaces 
in  1865  pointed  out  in  the  same  way,  that  although  the 
right  to  these  common  lands  had  been  enjoyed  from  time 
immemorial,  the  rights  were  vague  as  far  as  the  public 
at  large  were  concerned.  They  were  probably  limited  to 
a  certain  defined  area  or  body  of  persons,  as  the  inhabi- 


1 88    LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

tants  of  a  parish,  and  it  was  doubtful  if  the  custom 
would  hold  good  at  law  for  such  a  large  place  as 
London.  Thousands  of  people  from  all  parts  of  London 
trampling  over  a  common  was  a  very  different  thing  to 
the  free  use  of  it  by  the  parishioners.  This  report  led  to 
the  passing  of  the  Metropolitan  Commons  Act  of  1866. 
Both  before  and  after  this  Act  there  were  several  others 
for  the  maintenance  and  regulation  of  the  commons  and 
all  the  parks,  gardens,  and  open  spaces  too  numerous  to 
mention.-^ 

Under  the  present  system  most  of  the  metropolitan 
commons  and  heaths  are  in  the  hands  of  the  County 
Council,  and  in  some  cases  considerable  sums  have  been 
spent  on  them.  Among  the  smaller  ones  is  London 
Fields,  Hackney,  the  nearest  open  space  to  the  city. 
This  was  in  a  very  untidy  state  when  first  taken  in  hand 
after  1866.  The  grass  was  worn  away,  and  it  was  the 
scene  of  a  kind  of  fair,  and  the  resort  of  all  the  worst 
characters  in  the  neighbourhood.  It  used  to  be  known 
as  Shoulder  of  Mutton  Fields,  and  the  name  survives  in 
a  "  Cat  and  Mutton "  public-house  on  the  site  of  a 
tavern  which  gave  its  name  to  the  fields.  It  was  in  the 
eighteenth  century  a  well-known  haunt  of  robbers  and 
foot-pads,  and  in  spite  of  a  watch-house  and  special 
guard  robberies  were  frequent.  The  watch  must  have 
been  rather  slack,  as  about  1732  a  Mr.  Baxter  was  robbed 
about  five  in  the  morning  "  by  two  fellows,  who  started 
out  on  him  from  behind  the  Watch-House  in  the 
Shoulder  of  Mutton  Fields."  Hackney  is  rich  in  open 
spaces,  as  besides  London  Fields  there  is  Hackney  or 
Well  Street  Common,  near  Victoria  Park,  Mill  Fields, 
Stoke  Newington  and  Clapton  Commons,  Hackney  Downs 

1  See  "  Chitty's  Statutes,"  by  J.  M.  Lely,  under  "  Metropolis." 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES       189 

(over  40  acres)  on  the  north,  and  Hackney  Marshes 
(337  acres)  on  the  east.  These  were  Lammas  Lands,  and 
the  marshes  were  used  for  grazing  until  within  the  last 
few  years,  when  the  rights  were  bought  up  and  the  land 
finally  thrown  open  to  the  public  in  1894.  The  river 
Lea  skirts  the  marsh,  and  used  not  unfrequently  to 
flood,  doing  considerable  damage.  The  London  County 
Council  have  made  four  cuts  across  the  bends  of  the 
river,  forming  islands.  The  water  now  can  more  easily 
flow  in  a  wet  season,  and  the  periodical  inundations  no 
longer  occur.  The  planting  of  these  islands  has  not 
been  carried  out  at  all  satisfactorily.  An  utter  want 
of  appreciation  of  the  habits  of  plants  or  the  localities 
suited  to  them  has  been  shown.  A  stiff  row  of  the 
large  saxifrage,  ^S".  cordifolia^  charming  in  a  rock  garden 
or  mixed  border,  has  been  put  round  the  water's 
edge,  and  behind  it,  berberis,  laurels,  and  a  few  flower- 
ing bushes  suited  to  a  villa  garden  shrubbery.  The 
opportunity  for  a  really  pleasing  effect  has  thus  been 
missed,  and  money  wasted.  A  few  willows  and  alders, 
with  groups  of  iris  and  common  yellow  flags,  and  free 
growing  willow  herb,  and  purple  loosestrife,  would  soon, 
for  much  less  expense,  have  made  the  islands  worthy  of 
a  visit  from  an  artist.  Instead,  an  eyesore  to  every 
tasteful  gardener  and  lover  of  nature  has  been  produced. 
The  beauty  of  the  marsh  has  always  been  appreciated  by 
the  dwellers  in  Hackney  and  Clapton.  The  view  over 
the  fertile  fields  from  the  high  land  was  one  of  the  attrac- 
tions since  the  time  when  Pepys  wrote,  "  I  every  day 
grow  more  and  more  in  love  with"  Hackney. 

Hackney  Downs  now  form  a  large  open  area  for 
recreation,  but  they  were  fruitful  fields  sixty  years  ago. 
An  engraving,  from   a  drawing  by  W.   Walker,  dated 


I90    LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

1 8 14,  represents  a  "Harvest  Scene,  Hackney  Downs, 
with  a  View  of  the  Old  Tower,  and  Part  of  the  Town 
of  Hackney,"  and  gives  a  delightful  picture  of  har- 
vesters reaping  with  sickles,  and  binding  up  sheaves  of 
the  tall,  thick-growing  corn.  That  some  of  the  Downs 
were  arable  land  was  a  grievance  to  those  who  had 
grazing  rights,  and  there  was  a  considerable  agita- 
tion to  get  the  freeholders  to  lay  it  all  down  in 
grass,  after  the  incident  of  looting  the  corn  in  1837, 
already  referred  to.  The  Downs  continued  rural  within 
the  memory  of  many  still  living.  The  Lord  of  the 
Manor  remembers  that  an  inhabitant  stated  that  she  had, 
whilst  walking  across  the  Downs,  startled  a  wild  hare 
from  her  form.  This  would  be  about  the  year  1845, 
and  for  ten  or  twelve  years  later  there  were  partridges 
in  the  larger  fields  of  turnip  and  mangold-wurzel  which 
adjoined  the  Downs.  The  rural  character  has  quite 
changed,  and  now  the  Downs  are  a  large  open  space,  with 
young  trees  growing  up  to  supply  shade  along  the  roads 
which  encircle  the  wide  grassy  area, 

Highbury  Fields,  although  much  smaller  than 
Hackney  Downs,  being  only  27  instead  of  41  acres,  play 
as  important  a  part  in  the  north  of  London,  as  the 
Downs  do  in  the  north-east.  They  are  not,  however. 
Common  Lands,  but  until  recently  were  actually  fields 
with  sheep  grazing  in  them.  Tradition  points  to  High- 
bury Fields  as  the  site  of  the  Roman  encampment  during 
the  final  struggle  with  Boadicea.  In  the  Middle  Ages 
they  belonged  to  the  Order  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem, 
and  there  the  rebels  of  the  Wat  Tyler  rising,  headed  by 
Jack  Straw,  camped  after  leaving  Hampstead.  There 
are  a  few  old  trees  still  standing  in  the  Fields,  which 
were  formerly  within  the  grounds  of  two  detached  resi- 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES       191 

dences,  one  of  them  the  Manor  House.  An  old  "  moated 
grange,"  or  barn,  belonging  to  the  ancient  Priory,  gives 
its  name  to  the  public-house,  Highbury  Barn,  the  goal  of 
motor  omnibuses.  The  moat  was  only  filled  up  fifty 
years  ago,  and  the  old  buildings  pulled  down,  after  en- 
joying some  notoriety  as  a  Tea  Garden  for  over  a  century. 
A  part  of  the  present  Fields  was  called  "  the  Reed- 
mote,"  or  "  Six  Acre  Field,"  and  is  also  shown  on  old 
maps  as  "  Mother  Field."  When  Islington  Spa  was  a 
fashionable  resort,  and  Sadler's  Wells  at  the  height  of  its 
prosperity,  the  houses  facing  the  Fields  were  built.  On 
the  north-west  the  row  is  inscribed  in  large  letters, 
"Highbury  Terrace,  1789,"  and  this,  according  to  old 
guide-books,  "  commands  a  beautiful  prospect."  On  the 
east  lies  another  substantial  row  of  eighteenth-century 
mansions,  and  the  inhabitants  are  proud  to  point  out  to 
strangers  No.  25  Highbury  Place  as  the  house  in  which 
Mr.  Chamberlain  lived,  from  the  age  of  nine  until  he  was 
eighteen,  when  he  went  to  live  in  Birmingham.  His 
present  home,  now  so  well  known,  was  built  in  1879, 
and  was  named  in  remembrance  of  Highbury  Place.  In 
the  early  years  of  the  nineteenth  century  several  well- 
known  people  were  living  in  these  houses.  John  Nichols, 
the  biographer  of  Hogarth,  who  was  for  fifty  years  editor 
of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  died  there  in  1826.  A  few 
years  later  a  historian  of  Islington  describes  Highbury 
Place  as  *'  thirty-nine  houses  built  on  a  large  scale,  but 
varying  in  size,  all  having  good  gardens,  and  some  of 
them  allotments  of  meadow  land  in  the  front  and  rear 
The  road  is  private,  and  is  frequented  only  by  the  car- 
riages passing  to  and  from  the  several  dwellings  situated 
between  the  village  and  Highbury  House."  This  de- 
scription draws  a  very  rural  picture,  of  which  nothing 


192     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

now  remains  but  the  name.  The  Fields  were  turned 
into  a  public  Park  in  1885,  and  now  consist  of  wide 
open  spaces  for  games,  with  intersecting  paths  well 
planted  with  limes,  elms,  chestnuts,  and  planes,  and  an 
abundance  of  seats.  Near  the  point  where  Upper  Street, 
Islington  ends  and  HoUoway  Road  joins  it,  a  memorial 
to  the  soldiers  and  volunteers  of  Islington  who  fell  in 
the  Boer  War  has  been  erected,-and  the  figure  of  Victory 
stands  conspicuously  facing  the  approach  from  the  city. 

By  far  the  most  beautiful  and  the  most  frequented 
of  all  London  Commons  is  Hampstead  Heath.  The 
original  Heath  measured  240  acres,  but,  with  the  addition 
of  Parliament  Hill,  there  are  now  over  500  acres  of  wild 
open  country  for  ever  preserved  for  the  benefit  of  Lon- 
doners. 'Appy  'Ampstead,  the  resort  not  only  of  'Arrys 
and  'Arriets,  but  poets,  artists,  and  people  of  every  rank 
in  life,  is  too  well  known  to  demand  description.  The 
view  from  it  seems  more  beautiful  every  time  the  occa- 
sional visitor  ascends  the  hill,  and  gazes  down  on  London 
and  away  over  the  lovely  country  of  the  Thames  valley. 
The  County  Council,  the  present  holders  of  this  public 
trust,  have  mercifully  refrained  from  turning  it  into  a 
park — the  original  intention  of  those  who  first  wished  to 
preserve  it.  The  bracken  still  flourishes,  the  gorse  still 
blooms,  and  there  is  yet  a  wild  freshness  about  it  that 
has  not  been  "  improved  "  away. 

Hampstead  has  had  periods  of  fashion  as  a  residence. 
In  the  eighteenth  century  it  is  described  as  "  a  village  in 
Middlesex,  on  the  declivity  of  a  fine  hill,  4  miles  from 
London.  On  the  summit  of  this  hill  is  a  heath,  adorned 
with  many  gentlemen's  houses.  .  .  .  The  water  of  the 
[Hampstead]  Wells  is  equal  in  efficacy  to  that  of  Tun- 
bridge,  and  superior  to  that  of  Islington."     These  Wells 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES       193 

appear  to  have  first  attracted  notice  in  the  time  of 
Charles  II.  In  1698,  Susanna  Noel  and  her  son,  third 
Earl  of  Gainsborough  (then  the  owner  of  the  soil),  gave 
the  Well,  with  six  acres  of  ground,  to  the  poor  of 
Hampstead.  For  more  than  thirty  years  the  Wells, 
with  all  the  attendant  attractions  of  the  pump-room, 
with  balls  and  music,  drew  the  fashionable  world  up  to 
Hampstead.  It  was  said  to  be  "  much  more  frequented 
by  good  company  than  can  well  be  expected,  considering 
its  vicinity  to  London  ;  but  such  care  has  been  taken  to 
discourage  the  meaner  sort  from  making  it  a  place  of 
residence,  that  it  is  now  become  .  .  ,  one  of  the  Politest 
Public  Places  in  England."  Here  Fanny  Burney  made 
her  heroine,  Evelina,  attend  dances,  and  it  plays  a  part 
in  the  fortunes  of  Richardson's  Clarissa  Harlowe  ;  and 
here  all  the  wits  and  poets  of  the  time  mingled  in  the 
gay  throng.  Many  have  been  the  celebrated  residents 
in  Hampstead — Lord  Chatham,  Dr.  Johnson,  Crabbe, 
Steele,  Gay,  Keats,  William  Blake,  Leigh  Hunt,  Romney 
and  Constable,  John  Linnell,  and  David  Wilkie  among 
the  number.  The  site  of  the  pump-room  is  all  built 
over,  but  some  fine  old  elm  trees  in  Well  Walk,  still  have 
an  air  of  romance  and  faded  glory  about  them.  The 
houses  near  the  Heath — such  as  Shelford,  afterwards 
Rosslyn  House,  with  a  celebrated  avenue  of  Spanish 
chestnuts,  The  Grove,  Belsize  Park,  the  residence  of  Lord 
Wotton,  and  then  of  Philip,  Earl  of  Chesterfield — have 
all  been  consumed  by  the  inroads  of  bricks  and  mortar. 
It  is  more  than  likely  that  the  Heath  would  have  shared 
the  samejfate,  had  not  the  inhabitants  taken  active  steps 
to  arouse  public  attention  to  preserve  this  wild  heath, 
unequalled  near  any  great  city.  Already  aggressive  red 
villas   were  making   their   appearance   in    far    too   great 

N 


194     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

numbers.  The  western  side  was  dotted  over  with  them. 
That  the  purchase  of  it  for  the  public  benefit  has  been 
•appreciated  it  is  not  difficult  to  prove,  when  over  100,000 
visit  it  on  a  Bank  Holiday.  It  was  the  commencement  of 
building  operations  near  the  Flagstaff  by  the  lord  of  the 
manor,  Sir  Thomas  Maryon  Wilson,  in  the  heart  of  the 
Heath,  that  brought  things  to  a  crisis  in  1866.  A  case 
began  against  the  lord  of  the  manor,  but  he  died  before 
it  was  ended,  and  his  brother.  Sir  John,  being  willing  to 
compromise,  the  sum  of  ;^47,ooo  was  agreed  on  for  the 
sale  of  the  Heath  to  the  Metropolitan  Board  of  Works. 
The  few  houses  dotted  about  on  the  Heath  are  those  of 
squatters,  who  have  established  their  right  by  the  length 
of  time  they  have  been  in  possession.  The  small  hamlet 
or  collection  of  houses  in  the  "  Vale  of  Health,"  those 
near  the  "Spaniards"  and  round  Jack  Straw's  Castle, 
have  existed  from  time  immemorial,  although  few  old 
houses  of  interest  remain,  and  large,  unsightly  buildings 
have  taken  the  place  of  the  picturesque  ones.  In  the 
Vale  of  Health  the  houses  are  chiefly  given  up  to  catering 
for  holiday-makers.  The  "  Spaniards,"  at  the  most 
northerly  point  of  the  Heath,  is  a  genuine  old  house, 
and  it  still  has  a  nice  garden,  although  all  the  alleys 
and  fantastic  ornaments  which  made  it  popular,  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  have  vanished.  The  name  came  from 
the  fact  that  the  first  owner  was  a  Spaniard.  The  next 
proprietor  was  a  Mr.  Staples,  who  *'  improved  and  beauti- 
fully ornamented  it."  The  house  was  on  the  site  of  the 
toll-gate  and  lodge  to  Caen  Wood,  and  its  position  saved 
that  house  from  destruction,  at  the  time  of  the  Gordon 
riots.  The  rioters  had  burnt  and  wantonly  destroyed 
Lord  Mansfield's  house  in  Bloomsbury  Square.  Mad- 
dened with  drink,  and  flushed  with  triumph  at  the  success 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES       195 

of  their  outrages,  they  made  a  bonfire  in  the  square  of 
the  invaluable  books  collected  by  Lord  Mansfield.  Their 
temper  may  be  imagined  as  they  marched  by  Hampstead 
to  commit  the  same  violence  at  Caen  Wood,  Lord  Mans- 
field's country  house.  The  proprietor  of  the  "  Spaniards  " 
invited  them  in,  and  threw  open  his  cellars  to  the  mob. 
Fresh  barrels  of  drink  were  sent  down  from  Caen  Wood, 
and  meanwhile  messengers  were  despatched  for  soldiers ; 
so  that  by  the  time  all  the  liquor  had  been  consumed,  and 
the  drunken  rioters  began  to  proceed,  they  were  confronted 
by  a  troop  of  Horse  Guards,  who,  in  their  addled  con- 
dition, soon  put  them  all  to  flight.  The  name  of  the 
other  inn  on  Hampstead  Heath,  which  stands  con- 
spicuously on  the  highest  point,  443  feet  above  the  sea, 
is  Jack  Straw's  Castle,  and  has  also  some  connection  with 
a  riot.  Jack  Straw  was  one  of  the  leaders  in  the  Wat 
Tyler  rebellion,  and  after  burning  the  Priory  of  St.  John 
of  Jerusalem,  he  came  up  to  Hampstead  and  Highgate, 
though  there  is  no  direct  evidence  to  connect  him,  in 
1 38 1,  with  any  tavern  on  the  spot  on  which  the  inn 
stands.  The  addition  of  Castle  to  the  name  is  from 
the  fact,  that  there  was  some  sort  of  fortress  or  earth- 
works on  this  commanding  point.  The  inn  on  the 
site  was  known  as  the  Castle  Inn,  and  not  until  1822 
is  there  any  mention  of  it  as  Jack  Straw's  Castle.  The 
wood  of  the  gallows  on  which  a  famous  highwayman 
was  hung  behind  the  house  in  1673  was  built  into 
the  wall.  Jack  Straw's  Castle  is  now  quite  modernised, 
but  the  view  from  it,  on  all  sides,  is  still  as  lovely  as 
ever.  The  Whitestone  Pond  in  front  is  really  a 
reservoir,  and  to  the  south  of  that  lies  the  Grove,  with 
fine  trees  and  some  old-fashioned  houses.  The  most 
picturesque    walk    is    that    known    as    the    Judges'    or 


196     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

King's  Bench  Walk,  from  a  tradition  that  justice  was 
administered  under  the  trees  there,  when  the  judges 
fled  from  London  at  the  time  of  the  Great  Plague. 
This  walk  is  on  the  south-west  side  of  the  Heath, 
the  Well  Walk  on  the  south-east.  To  the  east  of 
the  highest  point  with  Jack  Straw's  Castle  and  the 
road  which  runs  northwards  towards  the  "  Spaniards  " 
is  the  Vale  of  Health,  and  below  are  a  series  of 
ponds.  Hampstead  has  always  furnished  a  water- 
supply  for  the  city  at  its  feet.  When  more  water 
was  required,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  the  Lord  Mayor 
proposed  to  utilise  the  springs  there,  and  convey  the 
water  to  London  by  conduits.  A  pound  of  pepper 
at  the  Feast  of  St.  Michael  annually  to  the  "  Bishop 
of  Westminster,"  was  the  tribute  for  the  use  of  the 
water,  as  the  land  belonged  to  the  Abbey  of  West- 
minster, having  been  granted  to  it  by  King  Ethelred 
in  986.  The  managers  of  water-supply  in  1692  were 
a  company  known  as  the  Hampstead  Water  Company, 
which  became  absorbed  in  the  New  River  Company. 
The  lakes  are  very  deep,  and  dangerous  for  boating, 
bathing,  and  skating,  although  used  for  all  those 
purposes. 

The  hill  which  rises  beyond  the  ponds  and  stretches 
away  to  the  east,  is  part  of  the  land  adjoining  the  true 
Heath,  which  was  bought  in  1887,  so  as  to  double 
the  area  of  open  country,  and  prevent  that  side  of 
the  Heath  being  overlooked  by  houses.  The  character 
is  quite  a  contrast,  and  lacks  the  wildness,  but  it  is 
pretty,  park-like  scenery,  and  Hampstead  Heath  would 
have  been  greatly  spoilt  had  this  further  wide  space 
of  pasture  land  not  been  saved.  The  first  hill  to 
the    east    of  the    Heath    is    crowned    by    a    mound    or 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES       197 

tumulus,  which  was  opened  a  few  years  ago  ;  the 
investigations  leading  scientists  to  believe  that  it  was 
a  British  burial-place  of  the  bronze  age.  This  used  to 
be  very  picturesque  with  a  group  of  Scotch  firs — now, 
alas !  all  dead.  The  next  hill  is  Parliament  or  Traitor's 
Hill,  and  there  is  no  very  definite  solution  of  the 
name.  It  may  have  been  a  meeting-place  of  the 
British  "  Moot "  or  Parliament,  or  the  origin  may 
only  be  traced  to  Cromwell's  time.  As  if  to  encourage 
the  tradition  being  kept  up,  a  stone  suggests  that 
meetings  may  take  place  within  50  yards  of  the  spot 
by  daylight.  Below  the  hill  are  flat  meadows  by  Gospel 
Oak,  said  to  be  so  named  from  its  being  a  parish 
boundary,  and  the  Gospel  was  read  under  the  tree 
to  impress  the  parishioners,  with  the  same  object  as 
the  other  and  more  familiar  form  of  beating  the 
bounds.  These  Gospel  Oak  fields  are  the  typical 
London  County  Council  greens  for  games,  so  gradually, 
after  leaving  the  summit  of  the  Heath,  the  descent  is 
made,  from  the  artistic  and  picturesque,  to  the  practical 
and  prosaic. 

Hampstead  was  always  famous  for  its  wild  flowers. 
The  older  botanists  roamed  there  in  search  of  rare 
plants,  and  the  frequent  references  in  their  works, 
especially  in  Gerard's  "  Herbal,"  show  how  often 
they  were  successful.  Osmundas,  or  royal  ferns, 
sundew  or  drosera,  and  the  bog  bean  grew  in  the 
damp  places,  and  lilies  of  the  valley  were  among  the 
familiar  flowers.  As  late  as  1838  a  work  on  London 
Flora  enumerates  290  genera,  and  no  less  than  650 
species,  as  found  round  about  the  Heath.  The  soil,  the 
aspect,  the  situation,  are  all  propitious.  Even  now  it  is 
so  far  above  the  densest  smoke-fogs  that  much  might 


198     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

be  done  to  encourage  the  growth  of  wild  flowers. 
It  is  true  notice-boards  forbid  the  plucking  of  them, 
and  that  is  a  great  step  in  advance — but  the  sowing 
of  a  few  species,  which  have  become  extinct,  would  add 
greatly  to  the  charm  of  the  place.  It  is  also  still 
the  favourite  haunt  of  wild  birds,  and  the  more  the 
true  wildness  is  encouraged,  the  more  likely  they  are 
to  frequent  it.  It  is  much  to  be  hoped  that  the 
London  County  Council  will  refrain  in  their  planting, 
from  anything  but  native  trees  and  bushes  which  look 
at  home,  and  which  would  attract  our  native  songsters. 
Within  the  last  ten  or  twelve  years  a  very  great  variety 
of  birds  have  been  recorded  either  as  nesting  there 
or  as  visitors.  The  following  list  (taken  from  "  Birds 
in  London"  by  W.  H.  Hudson,  1898)  may  interest 
bird  lovers : — 

Wryneck,  cuckoo,  blackcap,  grasshopper,  sedge, 
reed  and  garden  warblers,  both  white-throats,  wood 
and  willow  wrens,  chiff-chaff,  redstart,  stonechat,  pied 
wagtail,  tree  pipit,  red-backed  shrike,  spotted  fly- 
catcher, swallow,  house  martin,  swift,  goldfinch,  wheat- 
ears  in  passage,  fieldfare  in  winter,  occasionally  red- 
wings,  also  redpoles,  siskin,   and  grey  wagtail. 

This  list  is  certainly  a  revelation  to  those  who  only 
associate  dusty  sparrows  and  greedy  wood-pigeons  with  the 
ornithology  of  London.  No  better  testimony  is  wanted  to 
prove  that  Hampstead  is  still  the  beautiful  wild  Heath 
that  has  given  pleasure  to  so  many  generations. 

The  only  other  large  space  of  common  land,  north  of 
the  river  within  the  London  area,  is  Wormwood  Scrubs, 
of  very  different  appearance  and  associations  from  Hamp- 
stead. The  manorial  and  common  rights  were  pur- 
chased by  the  War  Ofiice,  and  the  ground  made  over  to 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES       199 

the  Metropolitan  Board  of  Works  in  1879,  with  re- 
servations for  the  rifle  range  and  military  exercises. 
The  space  is  altogether  over  200  acres.  The  ground 
in  ancient  times  was  a  wood,  adjoining  "  Old  Oak 
Common,"  just  beyond  the  London  boundary,  which 
was  covered  with  patriarchal  oaks.  The  last  was  felled 
in  1830.  The  ground,  being  flat,  is  admirably  suited  for 
the  War  Office  purposes  ;  it  has  gone  through  a  process 
of  draining,  and  the  only  part  not  downtrodden  by 
soldiers  has  been  "  improved "  by  the  London  County 
Council,  so  there  is  little  wildness  or  attraction  in  the 
place.  The  presence  of  a  prison,  erected  in  1874,  still 
further  diminishes  its  charm  as  an  open  space. 

This  completes  the  open  large  spaces  on  the  north  ; 
the  south  of  the  river  is  even  richer  in  commons.  One 
of  the  most  thoroughly  rural  spots  within  the  London 
area  is  Bostall  Wood.  There  is  nothing  to  spoil  the 
illusion,  and  for  quite  a  considerable  walk  it  would  be 
easy  to  imagine  that  a  journey  on  the  magic  horse  of  the 
"  Arabian  Nights  "  had  been  taken  to  some  distant  forest 
land,  to  forget  that  the  roar  of  the  town  was  barely  out 
of  one's  ears,  and  that  ten  minutes'  walk  would  take  one, 
out  of  the  enchanted  land,  back  to  suburban  villas  and 
electric  trams. 

Beyond  the  inevitable  band-stand,  which  attracts 
thousands  on  a  summer  Sunday  evening,  there  is  nothing 
to  jar,  and  spoil  the  illusion  of  real  country.  The  woods, 
and  Bostall  Heath  which  adjoins  them,  can  be  reached 
from  Plumstead  or  Abbey  Wood  Station,  in  twenty 
minutes'  walk  up  the  steep  hill.  Pine  woods  crest  the 
summit,  and  below  them  stretches  a  delightful  thicket, 
chiefly  of  oaks  and  sweet  chestnut,  with  an  undergrowth 
of  holly  and  a  pleasant  tangle  of  bracken  and  bramble, 


200     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

where  the  blackbirds,  chaffinches,  and  robins  call  to  each 
other  and  flit  across  the  path.  Steep  slopes,  and  valleys, 
and  hollows  clothed  with  trees,  give  possibilities  of  real 
rambles,  in  a  truly  sylvan  scene.  Under  the  pines,  which 
are  tall  enough  to  produce  that  soothing,  soughing  sound 
even  in  the  most  gentle  breeze,  the  carpet  of  pine  needles 
is  cushioned  here  and  there  with  patches  of  vivid  green 
moss  where  the  moisture  has  penetrated.  Beyond  the 
Wood  lies  the  Heath,  studded  with  birch  trees,  among 
gorse  and  bracken.  There  are  narrow  gullies  and  glades, 
like  miniature  "  gates"  or  "gwyles"  of  the  sea  coast,  and 
at  the  foot  of  the  Heath  lie  the  marshes,  often  in  the 
soft  light  as  blue  as  the  sea,  and  the  silver  Thames,  a 
bright  streak  across  the  picture,  chequered  with  the  red 
sails  of  the  barges,  and  tall  masts  of  the  more  stately  ships. 
The  whole  area  of  woods  and  common  is  only  about 
133  acres,  but  the  varied  surface,  and  the  distant  views 
from  it,  make  it  appear  of  larger  extent.  It  is  little 
known  to  most  Londoners,  although  the  Heath  was  pur- 
chased as  far  back  as  1877,  and  the  Wood  bought  by  the 
London  County  Council  in  1891.  The  place,  however,  is 
much  frequented  and  duly  appreciated  by  the  neighbour- 
ing population.  This  peaceful  country-side  could  be 
reached  within  an  hour,  from  any  point  in  the  City.  It  is 
attractive  at  all  times  of  the  year,  especially  in  spring, 
when  the  green  is  pale  and  the  young  brackens,  soft  and 
downy,  are  uncurling  their  fronds,  and  the  dark  firs  stand 
up  in  sharp  contrast  to  the  tender  greens.  Or,  perhaps, 
still  more  delightful  is  it  in  autumn,  when 

"  Red  o'er  the  forest  gleams  the  setting  sun," 

and  the  oaks  have  turned  a  rich  russet,  and  the  birches, 
of  brilliant  yellow,  shower  their  tiny  leaves  on  the  mossy 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES      201 

earth,  like  the  golden  showers  which  fell  on  Danae  in  her 
prison. 

The  attractive  wood-clad  hills  of  Bostall  are  the 
most  remote  of  all  London's  open  spaces.  They  lie  the 
furthest  east  on  the  fringe  of  the  suburbs.  From  Bostall 
westward  roofs  and  chimney-pots  become  continuous — 
Woolwich,  Greenwich,  Deptford,  Bermondsey,  South- 
wark  getting  more  and  more  densely  crowded.  But 
westward  also  begins  the  chain  of  commons  which  circle 
the  town  round  the  southern  border — with  breaks,  it  is 
true,  yet  so  nearly  continuous  that  from  the  highest 
point  of  one,  the  view  almost  ranges  on  to  the  next. 

Only  a  deep  valley,  with  Wickham  Lane  on  the  track 
of  a  Roman  road,  divides  Bostall  Wood  from  Plumstead 
Common.  This  is  open  and  breezy,  standing  high 
above  what  was  in  ancient  times  the  marsh  overflowed  by 
the  Thames.  The  greater  part  is,  however,  used  by  the 
military,  and  the  trample  of  horse  artillery  makes  it  look 
like  a  desert.  It  is  a  curious  effect  to  see  this  part  of 
the  Common  in  winter.  It  has  probably  been  used  for 
manoeuvring  all  the  week,  and  by  Saturday  afternoon 
there  are  pools  of  mud,  and  ruts,  and  furrows,  and  hoof- 
marks  all  over  it.  On  this  dreary  waste  hundreds  of 
boys  and  young  men,  sorted  according  to  age,  play  more 
or  less  serious  football  matches.  The  coats  of  the 
players,  in  four  little  heaps,  do  duty  for  goal-posts, 
and  these  are  so  thickly  strewn  over  the  surface,  and 
the  players  so  closely  mingled,  that  the  effect  is  like 
bands  of  savages  fighting  among  their  slain — the  ancient 
barrow  in  the  centre  of  the  ground  gives  colour  to  the 
supposition. 

A  sudden  deep  valley,  called  "  the  Slade,"  cuts  the 
Common  in  two.    In  the  hollow  there  are  ponds,  and  on 


202     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

the  high  ground  beyond  stood  a  windmill,  the  remains  of 
which  are  embedded  in  the  Windmill  Tavern. 

The  next  common  west  of  Plumstead,  is  Woolwich, 
maintained  by  the  War  Office  and  given  up  to  military 
exercises.  The  extent  is  159  acres.  It  is  so  much 
absorbed  by  the  requirements  of  the  War  Office  that  it 
cannot  be  classed  among  London's  playgrounds. 

Going  westward,  the  next  large  space  is  Blackheath, 
whose  history  is  wrapped  up  with  that  of  Greenwich, 
the  beautiful  Greenwich  Park  having  once  been  part  of 
the  Heath.  It  is  high  ground,  for  the  most  part  bare  of 
trees,  and  with  roads  intersecting  it — one  of  them,  the 
old  Roman  Watling  Street.  The  wild,  bare  summit  of 
the  Heath  was  a  dangerous  place  for  travellers,  and  many 
was  the  highway  robbery  committed  there  in  times  past. 
It  is  of  very  large  extent,  some  267  acres,  and  has  been 
effectually  preserved  for  public  use,  for  some  thirty-five 
years,  since  early  in  the  Seventies. 

The  Heath  has  played  its  part  in  history — gay  scenes, 
such  as  when  the  Mayor  and  aldermen  of  London  flocked, 
with  a  great  assemblage,  to  welcome  Henry  V.  after  the 
battle  of  Agincourt,  or  more  ominous  and  hostile  de- 
monstrations, as  when  Wat  Tyler  collected  his  followers 
there,  or  when  Jack  Cade,  some  seventy  years  later,  did 
the  same  thing.  A  few  fine  old  eighteenth-century  houses 
still  stand  on  the  edge  of  the  Heath,  and  an  avenue, 
"  Chesterfield  Walk,"  perpetuates  the  name  of  one  of 
the  distinguished  residents.  Morden  College,  at  the 
south-east  corner  of  the  Heath,  is  a  fine  old  building 
of  Wren's  design,  founded  by  Sir  John  Morden,  for 
merchants  trading  with  the  East  who,  through  unforeseen 
accidents,  had  lost  their  fortunes. 

To  the  west  of  Blackheath  there  v/as  once  a  Deptford 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES      203 

Common,  but  it  has  long  since  been  built  over,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  the  small  Deptford  Park,  there  is 
a  large  district  of  dense  population  without  any  open 
space.  The  nearest  is  Hilly  Fields  on  the  south.  This 
is  a  steep,  conical  hill,  with  little  beauty  to  recommend 
it,  except  its  breezy  height,  and  views  over  chimney-pots 
to  the  Crystal  Palace.  A  large,  bleak-looking  building, 
with  a  small  enclosure  on  the  highest  point — at  present 
for  sale — marked  the  West  Kent  Grammer  School, 
does  not  improve  the  appearance  of  this  open  space. 
There  are  some  45  acres  of  turf,  and  a  line  of  old 
elms  and  another  of  twisted  thorns  show  that  there  were 
once  hedgerows.  There  is  some  promiscuous  planting 
of  young  trees,  and  iron  railings,  and  of  course  a  band- 
stand ;  otherwise  no  particular  "  beautifying  "  has  been 
attempted  since  it  was  opened  to  the  public  in  1896. 

In  the  valley  of  the  Ravensbourne,  below  the  hill 
stretches  the  long,  narrow  strip  of  the  Ladywell  Re- 
creation Ground.  It  lies  on  either  bank  of  the  stream 
between  Ladywell  and  Catford  Bridge  stations.  It  is 
intersected  by  railways,  and  the  pathway  passes  some- 
times over,  sometimes  under  the  lines,  and  constant  trams 
whizz  by.  But  in  spite  of  such  drawbacks,  the  place 
has  a  special  attraction  in  the  stream  which  meanders 
through  the  patches  of  grass  devoted  to  games.  Where 
the  stream  has  been  untouched,  and  allowed  to  contmue 
its  course  unmolested  between  iron  railings,  even  the  rail- 
ings cannot  destroy  a  certain  rural  aspect  it  has  retamed. 
Alders  and  elms,  with  gnarled  and  twisted  roots,  lean 
over  the  banks,  and  hawthorns  dip  down  towards  the 
rather  swiftly  flowing  water.  When  the  land  was  bought 
for  public  use  in  1889  the  stream  frequently  overflowed 
its  sandy  banks,  and  one  or  two  necessary  cuttings  were 


204     LONDON    PARKS    <^    GARDENS 

made  across  some  of  the  sharpest  curves,  to  allow  a  better 
flow  of  water.  This  has  stopped  all  the  objectionable 
flooding,  but  the  melancholy  part  is  that,  having  been 
obliged  to  make  these  imperative  but  necessarily  artificial 
cuttings,  the  London  County  Council  did  not  plant  them 
with  alders,  thorns,  and  willows,  like  the  pretty,  natural 
stream  ;  but  instead,  the  islands  thus  formed,  and  the 
banks,  were  dotted  about  with  box  and  aucuba  bushes. 
The  babbling  stream  seems  to  jeer  at  these  poor  sickly 
little  black  bushes,  as  if  to  say,  "  What  is  the  good  of 
bravely  playing  at  being  in  the  country,  and  trying  to 
make  believe  trout  may  jump  from  my  ripples  and  water- 
ousels  pop  in  and  out  of  my  banks,  if  you  dreadful 
Cockneys  disfigure  me  like  that  ?  "  Very  likely  it  does 
not  jar  on  the  feelings  of  the  inhabitants  of  Lewisham 
or  Catford,  but  when  public  money  is  spent  by  way  of 
improvement,  it  is  cruel  to  mar  and  deform  instead. 
Where  the  churchyard  of  St.  Mary's,  Lewisham,  touches 
the  stream  is  a  pretty  spot,  but,  in  places,  untidy  little 
back-gardens  are  the  only  adornment ;  but  that  is  not 
the  fault  of  the  London  County  Council. 

Peckham  Rye  Common  is  more  or  less  flat,  without 
any  special  feature  of  interest,  except  at  the  southern 
end,  which  has  been  converted  into  a  Park.  The  Rye — 
what  a  quaint  name  it  is  !  and  there  is  no  very  satisfactory 
derivation.  It  may  either  come  from  a  stream  of  that 
name,  long  since  disappeared,  or  from  a  Celtic  word, 
rkyn^  a  projecting  piece  of  land — Peckham  Rye,  the  village 
on  the  spur  of  the  hill,  now  known  as  Forest  Hill  and 
Honor  Oak.  This  "Rye"  has  been  a  place  of  recrea- 
tion from  time  immemorial,  and  at  one  time  must 
have  extended  so  as  to  embrace  the  smaller  patches  of 
common  known  as  Nunhead  Green  (now  black  asphalt). 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES      205 

and  Goose  Green.    The  Common  was  secured  by  purchase 
from  further  encroachments  in  1882. 

The  Park  has  much  that  savours  of  the  country.     An 
enclosure  within  it,  is  not  open  to  the  public,  and  for  that 
very  reason  is  one  of  the  most  rural  spots.     There  is  a 
delightful  public  road  across  it,  known  as  "  the  Avenue." 
The  old  trees  form  an  archway  overhead,  and  on  either 
side  of  the  fence  the  wood  is  like  a  covert  somewhere 
miles  from  London ;  brambles  and  fern  and  brushwood 
make  shelter   for    pheasants,   and  squirrels   run   up   the 
trees.      The    farm-house,    and    its    out-buildings    with 
their    moss-grown    tiled    roofs,    have    nothing   suburban 
about  them.     The  front  facing  the  Rye  Common  has  a 
notice  to  say  it  is  the  Friern  Manor  Dairy,  but  even  that 
is  not  aggressive,  as  the  name  carries  back  the  history 
to  the  time  of  Henry  I.,  when  the  manor  was  granted  to 
the  Earl  of  Gloucester,  and  on  till  it  was  given  by  his 
descendants  to  the  Priory  of  Halliwell,  which  held  it 
until -the  church  property  was  taken  by  Henry  VIII.  and 
granted  to  Robert  Draper,  and  so  on  till  modern  days. 
There  is,  besides  this  attractive  farm,  a  regular  piece  of 
laid-out  garden,  and  a  pond  and  well-planted  flower-beds  ; 
but  the  little  walk  among  trees,  beside  a  streamlet  which 
has  been  formed  into  small  cascades,  and  crossed  by  rustic 
bridges,  is  a  more  original  conception,  and  is  decidedly  a 
success,'  and  a  good  imitation  of  a  woodland  scene.     The 
contrast  is  all  the  greater  as  Peckham  is  so  eminently 
prosaic,  busy,  and  unpicturesque ;  the  old  houses  havmg 
for    the    most    part    given    place    to    modern    suburban 

edifices. 

Due  west  of  Peckham  lies  Clapham,  the  largest  of 
the  South  London  Commons,  220  acres  in  extent; 
although,  being  flat  and  compact  in  shape,  it  does  not 


2o6     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

appear  larger  than  Tooting,  which  is  really  only  lo  acres 
less,  but  of  more  rambling  shape.  The  Common  has 
suffered  much  less  than  most  of  its  neighbours  from 
enclosures.  It  was  shared  between  two  manors,  Battersea 
and  Clapham,  and  the  rival  lords  and  commonalities,  each 
jealous  of  their  own  special  rights,  were  more  careful  to 
prevent  encroachments  than  was  often  the  case.  At  one 
time  Battersea  went  so  far  as  to  dig  a  great  ditch  to 
prevent  the  cattle  of  the  Clapham  people  coming  into 
its  part  of  the  ground.  The  other  parish  resisted  and 
filled  up  the  ditch,  and  was  sued  for  trespass  by  Battersea, 
which,  however,  lost  its  case — this  ended  in  171  8.  The 
Common  has  an  air  of  dignified  respectability,  and  is  still 
surrounded  with  some  solid  old-fashioned  houses,  although 
modern  innovations  have  destroyed  a  great  number  of 
them.  A  nice  old  buttressed  wall,  over  which  ilex  trees 
show  their  heads,  and  suggest  possibilities  of  a  shady 
lawn,  carries  one  back  to  the  time  when  Pepys  retired 
to  Clapham  to  "  a  very  noble  house  and  sweete  place, 
where  he  enjoyed  the  fruite  of  his  labour  in  great 
prosperity " ;  or  to  the  days  when  Wilberforce  lived 
there,  and  he,  together  with  the  other  workers  in  the 
same  cause,  Clarkson,  Granville  Sharp,  and  Zachary 
Macaulay,  used  to  meet  at  the  house  of  John  Thornton 
by  the  Common. 

There  is  nothing  wild  now  about  the  Common,  and 
the  numbers  of  paths  which  intersect  it  are  edged  by  high 
iron  railings,  to  prevent  the  entire  wearing  away  of  the 
grass.  The  beauty  of  the  ground  is  its  trees.  They 
proclaim  it  to  be  an  old  and  honoured  open  space,  and 
not  a  modern  creation.  Only  one  tree  has  any  pretentions 
to  historical  interest,  having  been  planted  by  the  eldest  son 
of  Captain  Cook  the  explorer,  but  only  a  stump  remains. 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES      207 

The  ponds  are  the  distinctive  feature  of  the  Common, 
and  there  are  several  of  them  dotted  about,  the  joy  of 
boys  for  bathing  and  boat-sailing.     The  origin  of  most 
of  them  has  been  gravel  pits  dug  in  early  days.     There 
is  the  Cock  Pond  near  the  church,  the  Long  Pond,  the 
Mount  Pond,  and  the  Eagle  House  Pond,  some  of  them 
fairly  large.     The  Mount  Pond  was  at  one  time  nearly 
lost    to   the    Common,  as    about    1748    a    Mr.    Henton 
Brown,  who  had  a  house  close  by,  and  who  kept  a  boat 
on  the  water,  obtained  leave  to  fence  it  in  for  his  own 
private  gratification.     It  was  not  until  others  followed 
Mr.  Brown's  example,  and  further  encroachments  began 
to  frighten  the  parish,  that  it  repented  of  having  let  in 
the  thin  end  of  the  wedge.     A  committee  was  formed 
to  watch  over  the  interests  of  the  Common  lands,  and 
took  away  Mr.  Brown's  privileges  ;  but  in  spite  of  their 
vigilance  other  pieces  were  from  time  to  time  taken  away. 
A  little  group  of  houses  by  the  Windmill  Inn   are    on 
the  site  of  one  of  these  shavings  off  the  area,  for  a  house 
called   Windmill    Place.       The    church    was    built   on^  a 
corner  of  the  Common  in  1774,  and  has  a  peaceful,  solid, 
dignified  appearance,  standing  among  fine  old  elms  and 
away  from  the  din  of  trams,  which  rush  in  all  directions 
from  the  corner  hard  by.     It   was   built   to   replace  an 
older  parish  church,  which  was  described    as   "a  mean 
edifice,  without  a  steeple"  by  a  writer  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  who  admired  the  "elegant"  one  which  took  its 
place.     The  present  generation  would  hardly  apply  that 
epithet  to  the  massive  Georgian  edifice,  but  it  seems  to 
suit   its  surroundings:    substantial    and    unostentatious, 
recalling  memories  of  the  evangelical  revival,  it  seems  an 
essential  part  of  the  Common  and  its  history. 

Away    to   the  south-west  of  Clapham  lies  Tooting 


2o8     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

(why  does  the  very  name  sound  comic,  and  invariably 
produce  a  laugh  ?),  another  Common,  nearly  as  large,  and 
much  more  wild  and  picturesque.  Clapham  is  essentially 
a  town  open  space,  like  an  overgrown  village  green ;  but 
on  Tooting  Common  one  can  successfully  play  at  being 
in  the  country.  The  trees  are  quite  patriarchal,  and  have 
nothing  suburban  about  them,  except  their  blackened 
stems.  There  are  good  spreading  oaks  and  grand  old 
elms,  gnarled  thorns,  tangles  of  brambles,  and  golden 
gorse.  The  grass  grows  long,  with  stretches  of  mossy 
turf,  and  has  not  the  melancholy,  down-trodden  appear- 
ance of  Clapham  or  Peckham  Rye. 

Fine  elm  avenues  overshadow  the  main  roads,  and  no 
stiff  paths  with  iron  rails,  take  away  from  the  rural  effect. 
Even  the  railway,  which  cuts  across  it  in  two  directions, 
has  only  disfigured  and  not  completely  spoilt  the  park- 
like  appearance.  The  disused  gravel-pits,  now  filled  with 
water,  have  been  enlarged  since  the  London  County  Council 
had  possession  ;  and  if  only  the  banks  could  be  left  as  wild 
and  natural,  as  nature  is  willing  to  make  them,  they  may 
be  preserved  from  the  inevitable  stamp  which  marks  every 
municipal  park.  The  smaller  holes,  excavated  by  virtue 
of  the  former  rights  of  digging  gravel,  and  already  over- 
grown, assist  rather  than  take  away  from  the  charms  of 
the  Common. 

Tooting  Common  consists  of  two  parts,  belonging  to 
two  ancient  manors.  The  smallest  is  Tooting  Graveney, 
which  derives  its  name  from  the  De  Gravenelle  family, 
who  held  the  manor  soon  after  the  Conquest,  on  the 
payment  of  a  rose  yearly  at  the  feast  of  St.  John  the 
Baptist.  The  larger  half,  Tooting  Beck,  takes  its  name 
from  the  Abbey  of  Bee  in  Normandy,  which  was  in 
possession    of   the    Manor   from    Domesday    till    14 14, 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES      209 

when  it  came  to  the  Crown.  Both  manors  can  be  traced 
through  successive  owners  until  the  rights  were  purchased 
in  1875  and  1873  by  the  Metropolitan  Board  of  Works. 
The  avenue  of  elms  which  runs  right  across  the  Common 
divides  the  two.  Tooting  Beck  is  more  than  twice  the 
size  of  Graveney,  and  has  the  finest  trees.  One  of  the 
oldest  elm  trees,  now  encircled  by  a  railing,  was  com- 
pletely hollow,  but  now  has  a  young  poplar  sprouting 
out  of  its  shell.  Tradition  associates  this  tree  par- 
ticularly with  Dr.  Johnson,  and  though  he  did  not 
compose  his  Dictionary  under  it,  it  is  more  than  likely 
he  often  enjoyed  the  shade  of  what  must  have  been  a 
very  old  tree  in  his  day.  For  fifteen  years  he  was  a 
constant  visitor  at  Thrale  Place  close  by.  "  He  fre- 
quently resided  here,"  says  a  contemporary  guide-book, 
"and  experienced  that  sincere  respect  to  which  his 
virtues  and  talents  were  entitled,  and  those  soothing 
attentions  which  his  ill-health  and  melancholy  de- 
manded." The  house  stood  in  100  acres  of  ground 
between  Tooting  and  Streatham  Commons,  and  has 
since  been  pulled  down  and  built  over.  During  these 
years,  no  doubt,  Tooting  as  well  as  Streatham  Common 
was  often  trodden  by  the  brilliant  circle  who  drank 
tea  and  conversed  with  the  accomplished  Mrs.  Thrale 
— Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Burke,  Garrick,  Goldsmith — to 
all  of  them  the  woodland  scenes  of  both  Commons 
were  familiar. 

To  prevent  the  too  free  use  of  the  turf  by  riders, 
a  special  track  has  been  made  for  them,  skirting  the 
Common,  and  passing  down  one  of  the  finest  avenues. 
It  may  save  the  grass  from  being  too  much  cut  up,  but 
to  those  who  don't  feel  called  to  gallop  across  the  Com- 
mon, the  loss  of  the  green  sward  under  the  tall  feathery 


2IO     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

elms  is  a  cause  of  regret.  It  is  such,  perhaps  necessary, 
alterations  which  spoil  the  delusion  of  genuine  country, 
otherwise  so  well  counterfeited  on  Tooting  Common. 
A  charming  time  is  when  the  may  is  out  and  the  gorse 
ablaze  with  bloom,  the  chestnuts  in  blossom,  and  birds 
are  singing  all  around  ;  or  if  one  happens  to  be  there 
on  a  winter's  day,  when  it  is  too  cold  for  loungers  or 
holiday-makers,  there  are  moments  when  the  nearness 
of  streets  and  trams  could  be  forgotten.  The  frosty 
air,  and  dew-drops  on  the  vivid  green  grass,  the  brown 
of  the  fallen  leaves,  the  dark  stems  clear  against  an 
amber  sky,  with  the  intense  blue  distance,  which  London 
atmosphere  produces  so  readily,  combine  harmoniously 
into  a  telling  picture,  which  remains  photographed  "  upon 
that  inward  eye,  which  is  the  gift  of  solitude."  The 
dream  is  as  quickly  dispelled.  A  sight,  a  sound,  recalls 
the  nearness  of  London,  which  makes  its  presence  felt 
even  when  one  is  trying  to  play  Hide-and-seek  with 
the  chimney-pots.  How  well  Richard  Jefferies,  that 
inimitable  writer  on  nature,  describes  his  feelings  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  London,  in  spots  only  a  little  further 
from  Hyde  Park  Corner  than  Tooting  Beck  : — 

"  Though  my  preconceived  ideas  were  overthrown  by 
the  presence  of  so  much  that  was  beautiful  and  interest- 
ing close  to  London,  yet  in  course  of  time  I  came  to 
understand  what  was  at  first  a  dim  sense  of  something 
wanting.  In  the  shadiest  lane,  in  the  still  pine-woods,  on 
the  hills  of  purple  heather,  after  brief  contemplation 
there  arose  a  restlessness,  a  feeling  that  it  was  essential  to 
be  moving.  In  no  grassy  mead  was  there  a  nook  where 
I  could  stretch  myself  in  slumbrous  ease  and  watch  the 
swallows  ever  wheeling,  wheeling  in  the  sky.  This  was 
the   unseen  influence   of  mighty   London.     The  strong 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES      211 

life  of  the  vast  city  magnetised  me,  and  I  felt  it  under 
the  calm  oaks." 

The   most  remote   of  London   open   spaces   in  this 
direction  is  Streatham,  to    the    south-east    of  Tooting, 
close  to  Norwood,  and  on   the  very   extremity   of  the 
County    of  London.      Much    smaller    than    the    other 
commons,    it    possesses    attractions    of  its    own.      It    is 
less  spoilt  by  modern  buildings  than  any  of  these  once 
country  villages,   but  ominous  boards  foretell  the  rapid 
advance    of   the    red-brick    villa.      The    houses    which 
now   overlook   the   upper    part  are    substantial,    in    the 
solid,  simple  style  of  the  eighteenth  century.     In  those 
days  Streatham    possessed    a   mineral   spring,  and  for  a 
few    years    people    flocked  to    drink    at   it.      But    long 
before   the   end  of  the    eighteenth    century    other  more 
fashionable    watering-places    had    supplanted  it,    and  in 
1792  Streatham   is   described  as   "once   frequented   for 
its  medicinal  waters."     The  spring  was  in  the  grounds 
afterwards  belonging    to   a   house    called   the    Rookery, 
and  near   the   house   called  Wellfield,  on   the   southern 
side  of  the  Common.     The  waters  were  said  to  be  so 
strong  that  three  glasses  of  Streatham  were  equivalent 
to    nine    of  Epsom.      Although  so  near    London,  the 
journey  to  the  springs  presented  some  dangers,  as  this 
was  one  of  the  most  noted  localities  for  footpads  and 
highwaymen.       The    woods  of  Norwood,    which    came 
close  to  the  Common,  afforded  covert  and  an  easy  means 
of  escape.      This    road  from  London,  which  went   on 
to  Croydon  and   Brighton,  had    such    a  bad   reputation 
that  the  risk  of  an  adventure  must  have  counterbalanced 
some   of   the   health-giving   properties    to    any    nervous 
invalid  !      The   lower   part   of   the  Common,   near    the 
road,  is   flat    and   open,  and    not    particularly  inviting. 


212     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

The  charms  of  the  top  of  the  hill  are  all  the  more 
delightful,  as  they  come  as  a  surprise.  There  are  fine 
old  trees,  and  a  wealth  of  fern,  thorns,  and  bramble, 
and  the  short  grass  is  exchanged  for  springy  turf  the 
moment  the  crest  of  the  steep  hill  is  reached.  But  by 
far  the  greatest  surprise  is  the  glorious  view.  Away 
and  away  over  soft,  hazy,  blue  country  the  eye  can 
reach.  It  may  or  may  not  be  true  that  Woolwich, 
Windsor,  and  Stanmore  can  be  seen  :  nobody  will  care 
who  gazes  over  that  wide  stretch  of  country  bathed  in 
a  mysterious  light,  perhaps  with  the  rays  of  the  sun, 
like  golden  pathways  from  heaven,  carrying  the  thoughts 
far  from  the  prosaic  villas  or  harrowing  slums  con- 
cealed at  one's  feet.  Only  the  wide  expanse  and  the 
waving  bracken  and  tangled  brushwood  fill  the  picture 
— while  one  rejoices  that  such  a  beautiful  scene  should 
be  within  the  reach  of  so  many  of  London's  toilers. 

Wandsworth  is  among  the  least  beautiful  and  the 
most  cut-up  of  the  commons.  Large  and  straggling 
in  extent,  it  has  been  so  much  encroached  upon  that 
roads,  and  houses,  and  railways  cross  it.  It  is  narrowed 
to  a  strip  in  places,  and  all  the  wildness  and  all  the 
old  trees  have  gone.  Some  young  avenues  by  the  main 
road  have  been  planted,  and  no  more  curtailments  can 
be  perpetrated,  as  it  was  acquired  for  the  use  of  the 
public  in  1871.  For  many  years  the  encroachments 
had  roused  the  inhabitants,  and  about  1760  a  species 
of  club  was  formed  to  protect  the  rights  of  the  com- 
moners. When  enclosures  took  place,  the  members  all 
subscribed  and  went  to  law,  and  often  won  their  cases. 
The  head  was  called  the  "  Mayor  of  Garratt,"  from 
Garratt  Lane,  near  the  Common,  where  a  "  ridiculous 
mock  election  "  was  held.      A  mob  collected,  and  en- 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES      213 

couraged  by  Foote,  Wilkes,  and  others,  witty  speeches 
were  made.  Foote  wrote  a  farce  called  "  The  Mayor 
of  Garratt,"  which  for  some  time  gave  the  ceremony 
no  small  celebrity.  The  rowdyism  becoming  serious 
at  the  sham  elections,  they  were  suppressed  in  1796. 
When  the  Common  was  eventually  saved,  it  was  in  a 
bad  and  untidy  state  :  quantities  of  gravel  had  been 
dug,  and  holes,  some  of  them  filled  with  water,  were 
a  danger  ;  the  trees  had  all  disappeared,  and  the  whole 
surface  was  bare  and  muddy.  It  has  improved  since 
then,  but  there  is  nothing  picturesque  left.  The  "Three 
Island  Pond,"  which  is  supposed  to  be  its  greatest 
beauty,  is  stiff,  formal,  and  new-looking,  with  a  few 
straggly  trees  growing  up.  Still  it  is  safely  preserved 
as  an  open  space,  and  makes  a  good  recreation  ground. 

All  round  London,  besides  the  larger  commons, 
smaller  greens  are  to  be  found,  which  are  survivals  of 
the  old  village  greens.  They  recall  the  time  when 
London  was  a  walled  city,  and  thickly  scattered  round 
it  were  the  little  hamlets  which  have  now  been  absorbed 
by  the  ever-growing,  monster  town. 

There  is  little  that  is  distinctive  about  them.  For 
the  most  part  they  are  simply  open  spaces  of  well-worn 
turf  without  trees.  Shepherd's  Bush  is  one  of  these. 
Brook  Green,  in  Hammersmith,  not  very  far  from  it, 
has  the  remains  of  a  few  fine  elm  trees.  In  Fulham 
there  are  Parson's  Green  and  Eel  Brook  Common. 
Away  in  South  London,  Goose  Green  and  Nunhead 
Green  are  other  examples  where  grass  is  even  more 
inconspicuous. 

On  the  north  lies  Paddington  Green,  which  is  small 
in  extent,  but  close  to  the  large  graveyard  turned  into  a 
public  garden.     In  the  centre  of  the  Green  a  statue  to 


/W'. 


Statue  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  Paddington  Green 


COMMONS    &   OPEN    SPACES      215 

Mrs.  Siddons,  by  Chevaliand,  was  erected  in  1897,  as 
she  lived  in  the  neighbourhood  when  Paddington  was 
still  rural.  There  is  nothing  beautiful  about  the  asphalt 
paths  between  high  iron  railings  surrounding  the  small 
space  of  grass  and  trees.  Some  of  the  other  greens  are 
more  of  the  ordinary  public  garden  type.  Islington  Green 
has  been  planted  with  trees,  and  outside  the  railings 
stands  a  statue  of  Sir  Hugh  Myddelton,  who  died  in 
1 63 1,  representing  him  holding  a  plan  of  the  New  River. 
Stepney  was  once  a  very  large  green,  and  has  still 
3j-  acres  of  garden  cut  up  into  four  sections.  Some 
quaint  old  houses,  wood  with  tiled  roofs,  and  good 
seventeenth  -  century  brick  ones,  still  overlook  the 
gardens.  The  gardens  have  been  made  exactly  like 
every  other,  with  a  slightly  serpentine  path,  a  border 
running  parallel  in  irregular  curves  not  following  the 
line  of  the  path,  and  trees  dotted  about.  One  really 
fine,  thick-stemmed  laburnum  shows  how  well  that  tree 
will  do  in  smoke,  and  some  curious  old  wooden  water- 
pipes  dug  up  in  1890,  dating  from  1570,  are  placed  at 
intervals  in  the  grass. 

Camberwell  has  one  of  the  large  village  greens  of 
South  London,  and  has  been  made  into  a  satisfactory 
garden.  All  the  trams  seem  to  meet  there,  but  in 
spite  of  the  din  it  is  a  pleasant  garden  in  which  to 
rest.  The  2^  acres  are  well  laid  out,  and  the  clipped 
lime-trees  round  the  railings  are  a  protection  from  the 
street  which  other  places  would  do  well  to  copy.  When 
the  trees  are  in  leaf  the  garden  is  partially  hidden  even 
from  those  on  the  tops  of  omnibuses. 

These  greens  scattered  round  London  help  to  con- 
nect the  larger  areas,  thus  forming  links  in  the  chain 
of  open  spaces  which  encircles  London.     These  natural 


2i6     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

recreation  grounds  are  the  admiration  of  all  foreigners, 
and  a  priceless  boon  to  the  citizens,  ensuring  the  pre- 
servation of  green  grass  and  green  trees  to  refresh  their 
fog-dimmed  eyes,  at  no  great  distance  from  the  throng 
of  city  life.  •  ^ 


CHAPTER  IX 

SQUARES 

Fountains  and  Trees  our  wearied  Pride  do  please. 
Even  in  the  midst  of  Gilded  Palaces  ; 
And  in  our  Toivns,  that  Prospect  gives  Delight, 
Which  opens  round  the  Country  to  our  Sight. 

— Lines  in  a  Letter  from  Sprat  to  Sir  Christopher 
Wren  on  the  Translation  of  Horace. 


OTHING  is  more  essentially  cha- 
racteristic of  London  than  its 
squares.  They  have  no  exact 
counterpart  in  any  foreign  city. 
The  iron  railings,  the  enclosure 
of  dusty  bushes  and  lofty  trees, 
with  wood-pigeons  and  twittering 
sparrows,  have  little  in  common 
with,  say  for  instance,  the  Place  Vendome  in  Paris, 
or  the  Grand'  Place  in  Brussels,  or  Madison  Square, 
New  York.  The  vicissitudes  of  some  of  the  London 
Squares  would  fill  a  volume,  but  most  of  them  have 
had  much  the  same  origin.  They  have  been  built 
with  residential  houses  surrounding  them,  and  though 
some  have  changed  to  shops,  and  in  others  the  houses 
are  dilapidated  and  forsaken  by  the  wealthier  classes, 
nearly  every  one  has  had  its  day  of  popularity. 

In    some    of    those   now    deserted    by    the    world 

of    fashion,   the    gardens    have    been    opened    to    the 

217 


21 8  LONDON  PARKS  &    GARDENS 

public,  but  by  far  the  greater  number  of  squares  are 
maintained  by  the  residents  in  their  neighbourhood, 
who  have  keys  to  the  gardens.  But  even  though  they 
are  kept  outside  the  railings  the  rest  of  the  public 
receive  a  benefit  from  these  air  spaces  and  oxygen- 
exhaling  trees.  Sometimes  the  public  get  more  direct 
advantage,  as  in  such  cases  as  Eaton  Square,  where 
seats  are  placed  down  the  centre  on  the  pavement 
under  the  shade  of  the  trees  inside  the  rails,  and  are 
much  frequented  in  hot  weather ;  or  in  Lower  Grosvenor 
Gardens,  which  are  open  for  six  weeks  in  the  autumn, 
when  most  of  the  residents  in  the  houses  are  absent. 

Squares  are  dotted  about  nearly  all  over  London, 
but  they  can,  for  the  most  part,  be  grouped  together. 
There  are  the  older  ones,  of  different  sizes,  and  varying 
in  their  modern  conditions.  Among  such  are  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields,  Charterhouse,  Soho,  Golden,  Leicester,  and 
St.  James's  Squares.  Then  there  is  the  large  Blooms- 
bury  group,  and  further  westward  the  chain  of  squares 
begins  with  Cavendish,  Manchester,  Portman,  on  the 
north,  and  Hanover  and  Grosvenor  to  the  south  of 
Oxford  Street.  Then  follow  the  later  continuations 
of  the  sequence — Bryanston,  Montagu,  and  so  on  to 
Ladbroke  Square,  nearly  to  Shepherd's  Bush.  To  the 
south  of  the  Park  lies  the  Belgravia  group,  with  more 
and  more  modern  additions  stretching  westward  till 
they  join  the  old  village  of  Kensington,  with  dignified 
squares  of  its  own,  or  till  their  further  multiplication 
is  checked  by  the  River. 

To  describe  most  of  these  squares  would  imply  a 
vast  amount  of  vain  repetition.  Few  have  anything 
original  either  in  design  or  planting.  The  majority 
have    elms    and    planes    mixed    with    ailanthus,    while 


SQUARES  219 

aucubas,  euonymous,  and  straggling  privet  form  the 
staple  product  of  the  encircling  borders,  with  a  pleasant 
admixture  of  lilac  and  laburnum,  and  generally  a 
good  supply  of  iris  facing  the  gravel  pathway.  A  few 
annuals  and  bedding-out  plants  brighten  the  borders 
in  summer,  and  some  can  boast  of  one  or  two  ferns. 
Occasionally  the  luxury  of  a  summer-house  is  indulged 
in,  and  here  and  there  a  weeping  ash  has  been  ventured 
upon  by  way  of  shelter ;  a  secluded  walk  or  seat  is 
practically  unknown.  The  older  gardens  have  some 
large  trees,  and  the  turf  in  all  of  them  is  good,  and 
when  it  is  with  "  daisies  pied  "  it  forms  the  chief  delight 
of  the  children  who  play  there.  It  may  be  that  the 
distance  of  Netting  Hill  Gate  from  the  smoke  of 
the  East  End  has  encouraged  more  enterprise  in 
gardening  ;  certainly  the  result  of  the  planting  in 
Ladbroke  Square  is  satisfactory.  Several  healthy  young 
oaks  are  growing  up  ;  and  a  fountain  and  small  piece 
of  formal  gardening  round  it,  on  the  highest  point  of 
the  long,  sloping  lawn,  is  effective.  In  the  older 
squares,  such  as  Grosvenor  Square,  the  bushes  are  high, 
and  the  openings  so  well  arranged  that  the  lawns  in 
the  centre  are  perfectly  private,  and  hidden  from  the 
streets.  In  the  less  ancient  ones,  such  as  Eccleston 
and  Warwick,  Connaught  and  Montagu  Squares,  the 
long,  narrow  strip  leaves  little  scope  for  variation. 

An  innovation  of  the  usual  square  is  to  be  seen 
in  Duke  Street,  Grosvenor  Square.  This  small 
square,  which  was  laid  out  as  a  garden  with  sheltered 
seats,  was  made  when  the  new  red-brick  dwellings 
replaced  the  smaller  and  more  crowded  houses.  The 
middle  is  now  the  distributing  centre  of  an  electric 
power-station,  but  the  roof  is  low  and  flat,  and  has  been 


220     LONDON    PARKS    <^   GARDENS 

successfully   transformed    into    a    formal    garden,    with 
trees  in  tubs  and  boxes  of  flowers. 

Some  of  the  squares  have  finer  trees  than  others,  and 
in  many  a  statue  is  a  feature.  Originally  these  statues 
formed  the  central  object  towards  which  the  garden 
paths  converged,  but  most  of  the  central  statues  have 


" /r^  ».*._. - 


Winter  Garden,  Duke  Street,  Grosvenor  Square 

been  moved,  though  in  a  few,  like  St.  James's  and 
Golden  Squares,  they  are  still  in  the  middle.  These 
statues  were  evidently  a  good  deal  thought  of  by 
Londoners,  but  they  did  not  strike  foreigners  as  very 
good.  In  one  of  Mirabeau's  letters  he  writes  in  1784 
from  London:  "The  public  monuments  in  honour  of 
Sovereigns,  reflect  little  honour  on  English  Sculpture. 
,  .   .     The  Statues  of  the  last  Kings,  which  adorn  the 


STATUE  OF  PITT,  HANOVER  SQUARE 


VRKS    Gf   G 

formal 
tluwers 


vards   ^^ 
aost  of  the  central  st. 


WiNT 


KB  Street,  Grosvenor  Square 


in  a   few,    like   St.    JamcVs    a»^  I 
ire  still   in  the  middh 

a    good    deal    th 
;d   not  strike  fo'-'^' 
;>eau*s  letters  '^ 
ae  public  mon 

' :   honour  on   Lngiish 

3^AU92  i^HVOl^AH  ,TTH  HO  3UTAT2 


SQUARES  221 

Squares  in  the  new  quarters  of  London,  being  cast  in 
brass  or  copper,  have  nothing  remarkable  in  them  but 
their  lustre ;  they  are  doubtless  kept  in  repair,  cleaned 
and  rubbed  with  as  much  care  as  the  larger  knockers  at 
gentlemen's  doors,  which  are  of  similar  metal."  The 
usual  plan  now  is  to  place  the  statue  facing  the  street, 
where  a  background  of  green  shows  it  off  to  the 
passer-by.  Thus  Lord  George  Bentinck  is  prominent 
in  Cavendish  Square,  from  which  the  equestrian  central 
statue  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  has  gone ;  and  from 
Hanover  Square,  built  about  the  same  time  as  Cavendish 
(between  1717-20),  Chantrey's  statue  of  Pitt  gazes 
down  towards  St.  George's  Church.  In  Grosvenor 
Square  no  statue  has  replaced  the  central  one  of 
George  I.  by  Von  Nost,  which  was  placed  there  in  1726, 
and  is  described  by  Maitland  as  a  "  stately  gilt  equestrian 
statue."  This  Square  is  older  than  the  two  last  men- 
tioned, having  been  built  in  1695.  In  those  days  each 
of  the  spacious  houses  had  its  large  garden  at  the  back, 
with  a  view  of  the  country  away  to  Hampstead  and 
Highgate.  The  garden  was  designed  by  Kent,  but  a  plan 
of  it  about  1750  shows  a  considerable  difference  between 
the  arrangements  then  and  now,  although  some  details 
are  the  same.  The  raised  square  of  grass  in  the  centre 
where  the  statue  stood  has  now  a  large,  octagonal,  covered 
seat,  apparently  formed  with  the  old  pedestal.  The 
walk  round  and  the  four  wide  paths  to  the  centre  are 
retained,  but  the  smaller  intersecting  paths  are  replaced 
by  lawns  on  which  grow  some  fine  old  elms.  The  rail- 
ings with  stone  piers  and  handsome  gates,  shown  in  the 
engraving,  have  given  place  to  much  less  ornamental 
iron  rails. 

Manchester  Square  is  of  later  date.     It  was  an  open 


222     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

space  approached  by  shady  lanes  from  Cavendish  Square 
for  some  fifty  years  after  that  was  built.  The  houses  in 
Manchester  Square  were  not  begun  till  1776 — some  ten 
years  after  the  commencement  of  Portman  Square.  This 
district  was  all  very  semi-rural  and  unfinished  until  much 
later.  Southey,  in  a  letter,  writes  of  Portman  Square  as 
"on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,"  and  approached  "on 
one  side  by  a  road,  unlit,  unpaved,  and  inaccessible  by 
carriages."  The  large  corner  house,  now  occupied  by 
Lord  Portman,  was  built  for  Mrs.  Montagu,  *'  Queen 
of  the  Blue  Stockings,"  and  during  her  time  "  Montagu 
House "  was  the  salon  to  which  the  literary  celebrities 
of  the  day  flocked.  When  Mrs.  Montagu  moved 
there  from  Hill  Street  she  wrote  to  a  friend,  "  My 
health  has  not  been  interrupted  by  the  bad  weather 
we  have  had  ;  I  believe  Portman  Square  is  the  Mont- 
pellier  of  England."  In  the  centre  of  the  Square  garden 
was  planted  a  "  wilderness,"  after  the  fashion  of  the  day, 
and  early  in  the  nineteenth  century,  when  the  Turkish 
Ambassador  resided  in  the  Square,  he  erected  a  kiosk  in 
this  "  wilderness,"  where  he  used  to  smoke  and  imagine 
himself  in  a  perfumed  garden  of  the  East.  It  is  still 
one  of  the  best  kept-up  of  the  squares. 

Berkeley  Square  dates  from  nearly  the  same  time  as 
Grosvenor,  having  been  begun  in  1698,  on  the  site  of  the 
extensive  gardens  of  Berkeley  House,  which  John  Evelyn 
so  much  admired,  and  where  flourished  the  holly  hedges 
of  which  he  advised  the  planting.  The  central  statue 
here  was  one  by  Beaupre  and  Wilton  of  George  III., 
which  was  removed  in  1827,  and  the  base  of  the  statue 
made  into  a  summer-house.  In  the  place  of  the  usual 
statesman,  a  drinking  fountain,  with  a  figure  pouring 
the  water — the  gift  of  the  Marquess  of   Lansdowne — 


SQUARES  223 

has  been  placed  outside  the  rails  at  the  southern  end. 
The  plane  trees  are  very  fine,  and  were  planted  at  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  it  is  said,  by  Mr.  Edward 
Bouverie  in  1789.  The  plane  has  been  so  long  grown 
in  London  these  cannot  be  said  with  certainty  to  be  the 
oldest,  as  is  so  often  stated.  Some  in  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields  are  decidedly  larger.  In  1722  Fairchild  writes 
in  praise  of  the  plane  trees,  about  40  feet  high,  in 
the  churchyard  of  St.  Dunstan-in-the-East.  Loudon 
mentions  one  at  the  Physic  Garden,  planted  by  Philip 
Miller,  which  was  115  feet  high  in  1837  (a  western 
Plane — not  the  great  oriental  Plane  which  fell  down  a 
few  years  ago).  The  western  Plane  {Platinus  occidentalis) 
was  introduced  to  this  country  many  years  after  the 
eastern  Plane  {Platinus  orientalis).  The  tree  most  common 
in  town  is  a  variety  of  eastern  Plane  called  accrifolia^ 
known  as  the  "  London  Plane  "  :  this  must  have  been  a 
good  deal  planted  all  through  the  eighteenth  century, 
so  it  is  difficult  to  assign  to  any  actual  tree  the  priority. 

St.  James's  Square  is  older  than  any  of  the  squares 
already  glanced  at,  having  been  built  in  the  time  of 
Charles  II.  It  was  known  as  Pall  Mall  Field  or  Close, 
originally  part  of  St.  James's  Fields,  and  the  actual  site 
of  the  Square  was  a  meadow  used  by  those  attached  to 
the  Court  as  a  sort  of  recreation  ground.  Henry 
Jermyn,  Earl  of  St.  Albans,  leased  it  in  1665  from 
Charles  II.,  and  began  to  plan  the  Square  or  "  Piazza," 
as  it  was  called  at  first.  The  deadly  year  of  the  Plague, 
followed  by  the  Great  Fire,  delayed  the  building,  and 
the  houses  were  not  finished  and  lived  in  till  1676. 
No.  6  in  the  Square,  belonging  to  the  Marquess  of 
Bristol,  has  been  in  his  family  since  that  time.  Every 
one  of  the  fine  old  houses  has  its  story  of  history  and 


224     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

romance.  Here  Charles  II.  was  frequently  seen  visiting 
Moll  Davis,  Sir  Cyril  Wyche,  and  the  Earl  of  Ranelagh. 
The  Earl  of  Romney,  and  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  and 
Count  Tallard  the  French  Ambassador,  are  names  con- 
nected with  the  Square  in  William  III.'s  time,  and 
Josiah  Wedgwood  lived  at  No.  7.  But  these  and  many 
other  historical  personages  did  not  look  from  their 
windows  on  to  a  well-ordered  garden,  and  the  Court 
beauties  did  not  wander  with  their  admirers  under  the 
spreading  trees.  The  centre  of  the  Square  was  left  open, 
and  merely  like  a  field.  The  chief  use  to  which  the 
space  seems  to  have  been  put  was  for  displays  of  fire- 
works. One  of  the  great  occasions  for  these  was  after 
the  Peace  of  Ryswick,  but  unfortunately  they  were  not 
always  very  successful.  An  eye-witness,  writing  to  Sir 
Christopher  Hatton,  says  of  Sir  Martin  Beckman,  who 
had  the  management  of  them,  that  he  "hath  got  the 
curses  of  a  good  many  and  the  praises  of  nobody."  The 
open  space  eventually  became  so  untidy  that  the  residents 
in  1726  petitioned  Parliament  to  allow  them  to  levy  a 
special  rate  to  "  cleanse,  adorn,  and  beautify  the  Square," 
as  "  the  ground  hath  for  some  years  past  lain,  and  doth 
now  lie,  rude  and  in  great  disorder,  contrary  to  the 
design  of  King  Charles  II.,  who  granted  the  soil  for 
erecting  capital  buildings."  So  badly  used  was  it  that 
even  a  coach-builder  had  erected  a  shed  in  the  middle  of 
it,  in  which  to  store  his  timber.  Strong  measures  were 
taken,  and  any  one  "annoying  the  Square"  after  May  i, 
1726,  was  to  be  fined  20s.,  and  any  one  encroaching 
on  it,  £s^-  No  hackney  coach  was  allowed  to  ply 
there,  and  unless  a  coachman,  after  setting  down  his  fare, 
immediately  drove  out  of  the  Square,  he  was  to  be  fined 
I  OS.     The  whole  place  was  levelled   and   paved,  and   a 


SQUARES  225 

round  basin  of  water,  which  was  intended  to  have  a 
fountain  in  it,  and  never  did,  was  dug  in  the  centre. 
Round  it  ran  an  octagon  railing  with  stone  obelisks,  sur- 
mounted with  lamps  at  each  angle.  A  road  of  flat  paving- 
stones  with  posts  went  round  the  Square  in  front  of  the 
houses  ;  the  rest  was  paved  with  cobble  stones.  As  early 
as  1697  it  was  proposed  to  place  a  statue  of  William  III., 
and  figures  emblematical  of  his  victories,  in  the  Square, 
but  nothing  was  done.  In  1721  the  Chevalier  de  David 
tried  to  get  up  a  subscription  for  a  sum  of  ;^ 2  5 00  for  a 
statute  of  George  I.  to  be  done  by  himself  and  set  up, 
but,  as  he  only  collected  ;^ioo  towards  it,  that  scheme 
also  fell  through.  Once  more  an  eifort  was  made 
which  bore  tardy  fruit,  for  in  1724  Samuel  Travers 
bequeathed  a  sum  of  money  by  will  "  to  purchase  and 
erect  an  equestrian  statue  in  brass  to  the  glorious 
memory  of  my  master,  King  William  III."  Somehow 
this  was  not  carried  out  at  the  time,  but  in  1806  the 
money  appeared  in  a  list  of  unclaimed  dividends,  and 
John  Bacon  the  younger  was  given  the  commission  to 
model  the  statue,  which  was  cast  in  bronze  at  the 
artist's  own  studio  in  Newman  Street,  and  put  up  in 
the  centre  of  the  pond.  Thus  it  remained  until  towards 
the  middle  of  last  century  the  stagnant  pool  was  drained. 
In  the  1780  riots  the  mob  carried  off  the  keys  of  New- 
gate and  flung  them  into  this  basin,  where  years  after- 
wards they  were  found.  It  was  150  feet  in  diameter, 
and  6  or  7  feet  deep.  When  the  pond  was  drained,  the 
garden  was  planted  in  the  form  it  now  is,  and  the  statue 
left  standing  in  the  centre.  St.  James's  is  still  one  of 
the  finest  residential  squares  in  London,  and  the  old 
rhyme,  picturing  the  attractions  in  store  for  the  lady  of 
quality  who  became  a  duchess  and  lived  in-  the  Square. 

p 


226     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

might  have  been  written  in  the  twentieth  instead  of  the 
eighteenth  century, 

"  She  shall  have  all  that's  fine  and  fair, 
And  the  best  of  silk  and  satin  shall  wear ; 
And  ride  in  a  coach  to  take  the  air, 
And  have  a  house  in  St.  James's  Square." 

Less  cheerful  has  been  the  fate  of  Golden  Square, 
which  has  a  forsaken  look,  and  the  days  when  it  may 
have  justified  its  name  are  past.  Originally  Gelding 
Square,  from  the  name  of  an  inn  hard  by,  the  grander- 
sounding  and  more  attractive  corruption  supplanted  the 
older  name.  Another  derivation  for  the  word  is 
also  given — "  Golding,"  from  the  name  of  the  first 
builder ;  but  anyhow  it  was  called  Golden  Square  soon 
after  it  came  into  being.  The  houses  round  it  were 
built  about  the  opening  years  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
when  the  dismal  memories  of  the  Plague  were  growing 
faint.  For  the  site  of  Golden  Square,  "  far  from  the 
haunts  of  men,"  was  one  of  the  spots  where,  during 
the  Plague,  thousands  of  dead  were  cast,  by  scores 
every  night.  These  gloomy  scenes  forgotten,  the  Square 
was  built,  and  at  one  time  fashionable  Lord  Boling- 
broke  lived  here,  while  Secretary  for  War.  It  is  still 
"not  exactly  in  anybody's  way,  to  or  from  anywhere." 
The  garden  is  neat,  with  a  row  of  trees  round  the 
Square  enclosure,  and  a  path  following  the  same  lines. 
In  the  centre  stands  a  statue  of  George  II.,  looking 
thoroughly  out  of  place,  like  a  dilapidated  Roman 
emperor.  It  was  bought  from  Canons,  the  Duke  of 
Chandos's  house,  near  Edgware,  when  the  house  was 
pulled  down  and  everything  sold  in  1747.  There  are 
a    few    seats,   but    they   are    rarely    used,    and  it  has   a 


STATUE  OF  WILLIAM  III,  IN  ST,  JAMES'S  SQUARE 


sou 

ok! 

ah- 


em 
Ch 


le  twen 


rtt  ot'  siitc  and  satin 
11  a  coach  to  take  :1a   ... 
.   I  house  in  St.  James's  i^> 


Les  has  be^;      ..^     --^  of  Golden 

which  ^ken   look,  and  the  days  when 

have  name    arc                 Originally  Gelding 

Sqi..    '  '-"y,  the  grander- 

. : .  r-i-i!  i!i :  ''(1    the 


rV 


fj^  xr   froTii    ihc 

ha  men,  where,  during 

cast,    by   scores 

.  ,L  i  Iv.  >my  scenes  forgotten,  the  Square 
it  one    time    fashionable    Lord    Boling- 
while  Secretary  for  War.      It  is     '  " 
•body's  way,  to  or  from  anw* 
with    a    row   of  trees   r 
path  following  th;: 
statue    of   ' 
ue,    like    a 
ht    from    C- 


^^^}i9^,^^^™M  .T2  m  .III  MAIJJIW  TO  3UTAT2 


SQUARES  227 

very  quiet  and  dreary  aspect  when  compared  with  the 
cheerful  crowds  enjoying  the  gardens  in  its  larger 
neighbour,  Leicester  Square.  This  was  known  as 
Leicester  Fields,  and  was  traversed  by  two  rows  of 
elm  trees ;  and  even  after  the  houses  round  it  were 
begun,  about  1635,  ^^^  name  of  Fields  clung  to 
it.  The  ground  was  part  of  the  Lammas  Lands  be- 
longing to  the  parish  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  and 
Robert  Sydney,  Earl  of  Leicester,  who  built  the  house 
from  which  the  Square  takes  its  name,  paid  compensa- 
tion for  the  land,  to  the  poor  of  the  parish  £i^  yearly. 
The  house  occupied  the  north-east  corner  of  the  Square, 
and  in  after  years  became  famous  as  a  royal  residence. 
It  has  been  called  "  the  pouting-place "  of  princes, 
as  it  was  to  Leicester  House  that  the  Prince  of  Wales 
retired  when  he  quarrelled  with  his  father,  George  I. ; 
and  there  Caroline  the  Illustrious  gathered  all  the 
dissatisfied  courtiers,  and  such  wit  and  beauty  as  could 
be  found,  round  her.  When  he  became  George  II., 
and  quarrelled  in  his  turn  with  his  son,  Frederick, 
Prince  of  Wales,  the  latter  came  to  live  in  Leicester 
House.  The  statue  of  George  I.  which  stood  in  the 
centre  of  the  garden  was,  it  was  said,  put  up  by 
Frederick,  with  the  express  purpose  of  annoying  his 
father.  A  view  of  the  Square  in  1700,  shows  a  neatly- 
kept  square  garden  with  four  straight  walks,  and  trees 
at  even  distances,  and  Leicester  House  standing  back, 
with  a  fore-court  and  large  entrance  gates,  and  a  garden 
of  its  own  with  lawns  and  statues  at  the  back.  Savile 
House,  next  door  to  Leicester  House,  on  the  site 
of  the  present  Empire  Theatre,  was  also  the  scene 
of  many  interesting  incidents,  until  it  was  practically 
destroyed  during  the  Gordon  Riots.     The  list  of  great 


228     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

names  connected  with  the  Square  is  too  long  to  recite, 
but  four  of  the  greatest  are  commemorated  by  the  four 
busts  in  the  modern  garden  —  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
Hogarth,  John  Hunter,  the  eminent  surgeon,  and  Sir 
Isaac  Newton.  But  before  these  monuments  were 
erected  Leicester  Square  Garden  had  gone  through  a 
period  of  decay.  It  was  left  unkept  up  and  uncared 
for ;  the  gilt  statue  was  tumbling  to  pieces,  and  was 
only  propped  up  with  wooden  posts.  The  garden 
from  1 85 1  for  ten  years,  was  used  to  exhibit  the  Great 
Globe  of  Wylde,  the  geographer,  who  leased  the  space 
from  the  Tulk  family,  then  the  owners  of  the  land. 
Leicester  House,  after  it  ceased  to  be  a  royal  residence, 
was  in  the  hands  of  Sir  Ashton  Lever,  who  turned 
it  into  a  museum,  which  was  open  from  1771  to  1784, 
but  failed  to  obtain  much  popularity.  The  collection 
was  dispersed,  and  soon  after  the  house  was  pulled 
down  and  the  site  built  over,  and  the  Square  was 
allowed  to  get  more  and  more  untidy.  Several  efforts 
were  made  to  purchase  it  for  the  public,  but  the  price 
asked  was  prohibitive,  as  the  owners  wished  to  build 
on  it.  When,  however,  after  much  litigation,  the 
Court  of  Appeal  decided  it  could  not  be  built  on, 
but  must  be  maintained  as  an  open  space,  they  were 
more  ready  to  come  to  terms.  A  generous  purchaser 
came  forward,  Mr.  Albert  (afterwards  Baron)  Grant, 
who  bought  the  land,  laid  it  out  as  a  garden,  and 
presented  it  to  the  public,  to  be  kept  up  by  the 
Metropolitan  Board  of  Works.  The  plans  for  the 
newly-restored  garden,  were  made  for  Mr.  Grant  by 
Mr.  James  Knowles,  and  the  planting  done  by  Mr. 
John  Gibson,  who  was  then  occupied  with  the  sub- 
tropical   garden    in    Battersea    Park.       The    statue    of 


SQUARES  229 

Shakespeare  in  the  centre,  and  the  four  busts,  were 
also  the  gift  of  the  same  public  benefactor,  who 
presented  the  Square  complete,  with  trees,  statues, 
railings,  and  seats,  in    1874. 

Soho  Square  was  another  of  the  fashionable  squares  of 
London,  now  gloomy  and  deserted  by  its  former  aristo- 
cratic residents.  The  gardens  are  kept  up  for  the  benefit 
of  those  living  in  the  Square  only,  and  are  not  enjoyed 
by  the  masses,  like  Leicester  Square.  Maitland  describes 
the  building  and  consecration  of  St.  Anne's,  Soho,  or,  as 
he  calls  it,  St.  Anne's,  Westminster,  which  was  in  1685 
separated  from  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  and  a  new 
parish  created,  just  in  the  same  way  as  scores  of  parishes 
have  to  be  treated  nowadays,  to  meet  the  needs  of  the 
much  more  rapidly-growing  population.  Of  the  new 
parish,  he  says  the  only  remarkable  things  were  "  its 
beautiful  streets,  spacious  and  handsome  Church,  and 
stately  Quadrate,  denominated  King's-Square,  but  vulgarly 
Soho-Square."  Various  suggestions  have  been  made  as 
to  the  origin  of  the  name,  and  the  most  popular  explana- 
tion is  that  it  was  a  hunting-cry  used  in  hunting  hares, 
which  sport  was  indulged  in  over  these  fields.  The  word 
Soho  occurs  in  the  parish  registers  as  early  as  1632. 
When  first  built  the  Square  was  called  King  Square,  from 
Geoffrey  King,  who  surveyed  it,  not  after  King  Charles  IL 
But  the  old  name  of  the  fields  became  for  ever  attached 
to  the  Square,  to  the  entire  exclusion  of  the  more  modern 
one,  after  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor.  Monmouth's  sup- 
porters on  that  occasion  took  the  word  Soho  for  their 
watchword,  from  the  fact  that  Monmouth  lived  in  the 
Square.  In  1690  John  Evelyn  notes  that  he  went  with 
his  family  "  to  winter  at  Soho  in  the  Great  Square." 
Monmouth  House  was  built  by  Wren,  when  the  Square 


230     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

was  begun  in  1681,  and  it  was  pulled  down,  to  make 
room  for  smaller  houses  on  the  south  side  of  the  Square,  in 
1773.  There  are  some  fine  old  trees  in  the  garden,  and 
a  statue  of  Charles  II.  used,  till  the  middle  of  last  century, 
like  the  one  in  St.  James's  Square,  to  stand  in  a  basin  of 
water,  with  figures  round  it,  emblematic  of  the  rivers 
Thames,  Severn,  Tyne,  and  Humber,  spouting  water. 
Nollekens,  the  sculptor,  who  was  born  in  28  Dean  Street, 
Soho,  in  1738,  recalled  how  he  stood  as  a  boy  "  for  hours 
together  to  see  the  water  run  out  of  the  jug  of  the  old 
river-gods  in  the  basin  in  the  middle  of  the  Square,  but 
the  water  never  would  run  out  of  their  jugs  but  when 
the  windmill  was  going  round  at  the  top  of  Rathbone 
Place."  The  centre  of  the  Square  was  in  1748  "new 
made  and  inclosed  with  iron  railings  on  a  stone  kirb," 
and  "eight  lamp  Irons  3  ft.  6  in.  high  above  the  spikes 
in  each  of  the  Eight  corner  Angles"  :  the  "  Channell  all 
round  the  Square"  was  paved  with  "good  new  Kentish 
Ragg  stones." 

Beyond  Oxford  Street  are  collected  a  great  number  of 
squares  in  the  district  of  Bloomsbury.  They  are  all  sur- 
rounded by  solid,  well-built  houses,  which  seem  to  hold 
their  own  with  dignity,  even  though  fashion  has  moved 
away  from  them  westward.  Before  the  squares  arose, 
this  was  the  site  of  two  great  palaces  with  their  gardens. 
One  of  them,  Southampton  House,  afterwards  known  as 
Bedford  or  Russell  House,  was  where  Bloomsbury  Square 
now  is.  In  1665,  February  9,  Evelyn  notes  that  he 
"dined  at  my  Lord  Treasurer's  the  Earl  of  Southampton, 
in  Bloomsbury,  where  he  was  building  a  noble  square  or 
piazza,  a  little  town  ;  his  own  house  stands  too  low — 
some  noble  rooms,  a  pretty  cedar  chapel,  a  naked  garden 
to  the  North,  but  good  air."     This  house  was  pulled 


SQUARES  231 

down  in  1800,  and  Russell  Square  was  built  on  the 
garden.  Both  Bloomsbury,  or  Southampton  Square,  as  it 
was  sometimes  called,  and  Russell  Square  have  good  trees, 
and  in  each  garden  there  is  a  statue  by  Westmacott. 
Charles  James  Fox,  seated  in  classical  drapery,  erected  in 
1 8 16,  looks  down  Bedford  Place,  where  stood  South- 
ampton House,  towards  the  larger  statue,  with  elaborate 
pedestal  and  cupids,  of  Francis,  Duke  of  Bedford,  in 
Russell  Square.  This  is  one  of  London's  largest 
Squares,  being  only  about  14O  feet  smaller  than  Lin- 
coln's Inn  Fields,  and  included  most  of  the  garden  of 
Southampton  House,  with  its  fine  limes,  and  a  large 
locust-tree,  Robinia  pseudo  acacia. 

The  laying  out  is  more  original  in  design  than  most 
of  the  squares,  having  been  done  by  Repton  in  18 10. 
\n  Repton's  book  on  Landscape  Gardening  he  goes 
fully  into  his  reasons  for  the  design  of  Russell  Square. 
"  The  ground,"  he  said,  "  had  all  been  brought  to  one 
level  plain  at  too  great  expense  to  admit  of  its  being 
altered."  He  approves  of  the  novel  plan  of  placing  the 
statue  at  the  edge  instead  of  in  the  usual  position  in  the 
centre  of  the  Square.  "  To  screen  the  broad  gravel-walk 
from  the  street,  a  compact  hedge  is  intended  to  be  kept 
dipt  to  about  six  feet  high  ;  this,  composed  of  privet 
and  hornbeam,  will  become  almost  as  impervious  as  a 
hedge  of  laurels,  or  other  evergreens,  which  will  not 
succeed  in  a  London  atmosphere."  He  says  he  has  not 
"  clothed  the  lawn "  with  plantation,  so  that  children 
playing  there  could  be  seen  from  the  windows,  to  meet 
"the  particular  wishes  of  some  mothers."  "The  outline 
of  this  area  is  formed  by  a  walk  under  two  rows  of  lime- 
trees,  regularly  planted  at  equal  distances,  not  in  a  perfect 
circle,  but  finishing  towards  the  statue   in  two  straight 


232     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

lines."  He  imagines  that  fanciful  advocates  of  landscape 
gardening  will  object  to  this  as  too  formal,  and  be  "further 
shocked  "  by  learning  that  he  hoped  they  would  be  kept 
cut  and  trimmed.  Within  were  to  be  "  groves  in  one 
quarter  of  the  area,  the  other  three  enriched  with  flowers 
and  shrubs,  each  disposed  in  a  different  manner,  to  indulge 
the  various  tastes  for  regular  or  irregular  gardens."  He 
ends  his  description  by  saying  :  "  A  few  years  hence,  when 
the  present  patches  of  shrubs  shall  have  become  thickets 
— when  the  present  meagre  rows  of  trees  shall  have 
become  an  umbrageous  avenue — and  the  children  now  in 
their  nurses'  arms  shall  have  become  the  parents  or  grand- 
sires  of  future  generations — this  square  may  serve  to 
record,  that  the  Art  of  Landscape  Gardening  in  the 
beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  was  not  directed 
by  whim  or  caprice,  but  founded  on  a  due  consideration 
of  utility  as  well  as  beauty,  without  a  bigoted  adherence 
to  forms  and  lines,  whether  straight,  or  crooked,  or 
serpentine." 

Repton  always  put  forth  his  ideas  in  high-sounding 
language,  often  not  so  well  justified  as  in  the  present 
case.  The  lime-trees  have  been  allowed  to  grow  taller 
than  he  desired,  and  yet  are  not  fine  trees  from  having  at 
one  period  been  kept  trimmed  ;  but  they  certainly  form  an 
attractive  addition  to  the  usual  design,  and  looking  at 
them,  after  nearly  a  hundred  years,  from  the  outside, 
where  they  form  a  background  to  the  statue,  the  effect 
in  summer  is  very  attractive. 

Bedford  Square  is  on  the  gardens  of  the  other  great 
house — Montagu  House,  built  by  the  Duke  of  Montagu. 
Evelyn  also  notes  going  to  see  that.  In  1676,  "  I  dined," 
he  says,  "with  Mr.  Charleton  and  went  to  see  Mr. 
Montagu's     new    palace     near    Bloomsbury,     built     by 


SQUARES  233 

Mr.  Hooke  of  our  Society  [the  Royal]  after  the  French 
manner."  This  house  was  burnt  down  ten  years  later, 
and  rebuilt  with  equal  magnificence  ;  but  when  the  Duke 
moved  to  Montagu  House,  Whitehall,  in  1757,  it  became 
the  home  of  the  British  Museum.  The  old  house  was 
pulled  down  and  the  present  building  erected  in  1845. 
The  Square  was  laid  out  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century  on  the  gardens  and  the  open  fields  of  the  parish 
of  St.  Gilcs-in-the-Fields  beyond.  Lord  Loughborough 
lived  in  No.  6,  and  after  him  Lord  Eldon  from  1804  to 
18 1 5.  At  the  time  of  the  Gordon  Riots  in  1780,  when 
Lord  Mansfield's  house  was  plundered,  troops  were 
stationed  near,  and  a  camp  formed  in  the  garden  of  the 
British  Museum.  That  garden  was  also  of  use  when,  in 
March  18 15,  Lord  Eldon's  house  in  Bedford  Square  was 
attacked  by  a  mob,  and  he  was  forced  to  make  his  escape 
out  of  the  back  into  the  Museum  garden. 

Of  Queen's  Square,  built  in  Queen  Anne's  time, 
but  containing  a  statue  of  Queen  Charlotte,  and  all  the 
other  squares  of  this  district  there  is  little  of  special 
interest  to  record  directly  connected  with  their  gardens. 
They  all  have  good  trees,  and  are  kept  up  much  in  the 
same  style. 

Red  Lion  Square  is  an  exception.  It  has  a  longer 
history,  and  now  its  garden  differs  from  the  rest,  as  it 
is  open  to  the  public,  and  a  great  boon  in  this  crowded 
district.  It  takes  its  name  from  a  Red  Lion  Inn,  which 
stood  in  the  fields  long  before  any  other  houses  had 
grown  up  near  it.  It  was  to  this  inn  that  the  bodies 
of  the  regicides  Cromwell,  Ireton,  and  Bradshaw  were 
carried,  when  they  were  exhumed  from  Westminster  Abbey 
and  taken,  with  all  the  horrible  indignities  meted  out  to 
traitors,  to  Tyburn.     A  tradition,  probably  without  foun- 


234     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

dation,  was  for  long  current  that  a  rough  stone  obelisk, 
which  stood  afterwards  in  the  Square,  marked  the  spot 
where  Cromwell's  body  was  buried  by  friends  who  rescued 
the  remains  from  the  scaffold.  The  houses  were  built 
round  it  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  but  the 
space  in  the  middle  seems,  like  all  other  squares  at  this 
time,  to  have  been  more  or  less  a  rubbish  heap,  and  a 
resort  of  "vagabonds  and  other  disorderly  persons."  In 
1737  the  inhabitants  got  an  Act  of  Parliament  to  allow 
them  to  levy  a  rate  to  keep  the  Square  in  order.  A 
contemporary,  in  praising  this  determination  to  beautify 
the  Square,  "  which  had  run  much  to  decay,"  hopes  that 
"Leicester  Fields  and  Golden  Square  will  soon  follow  these 
good  examples."  The  "beautifying"  consisted  in  setting 
up  a  railing  round  it,  with  watch-houses  at  the  corners, 
while  the  obelisk  rose  in  the  centre  out  of  the  rank  grass. 

The  present  garden,  when  first  opened  to  the  public, 
was  managed  by  the  Metropolitan  Gardens  Association, 
but  since  1895  the  London  County  Council  have  looked 
after  it;  the  inhabitants  having  made  a  practically  free 
gift  of  it  for  the  public  benefit.  The  nice  old  trees,  . 
flowers,  seats,  and  fountain  make  it  a  much  less  gloomy 
spot  than  during  any  time  of  its  history  since  the  Red 
Lion  kept  solitary  watch  in  the  fields. 

The  largest  of  all  the  squares  is  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields. 
The  garden,  which  is  7^  acres  in  extent,  was,  after 
many  lengthy  negotiations,  finally  opened  to  the  public 
in  1895.  The  fine  old  houses  which  survive,  show  the 
importance  and  size  of  Inigo  Jones's  original  conception. 
It  has  been  said  that  the  Square  is  exactly  the  same  size 
as  the  base  of  the  Great  Pyramid,  but  this  is  not  the  case. 
The  west  side,  which  was  completed  by  Inigo  Jones,  was 
begun  in  1618,  but  the  centre  of  the  Square  was  left  an 


SQUARES  235 

open  waste  till  long  after  that  date.  The  Fields,  before 
the  building  commenced,  were  used  as  a  place  of  exe- 
cution, and  Babington  and  his  associates  met  a  traitor's 
death,  in  1586,  on  the  spot  where  it  was  supposed  they 
had  planned  some  of  their  conspiracy.  The  surrounding 
houses  had  been  built,  and  the  ground  was  no  longer  an 
open  field  when  William,  Lord  Russell,  was  beheaded 
there  in  1683.  The  scaffold  was  erected  in  what  is  now 
the  centre  of  the  garden.  The  Fields  for  many  years 
bore  a  bad  name,  and  were  the  haunt  of  thieves  and 
ruffians  of  all  sorts.  When  things  reached  such  a  climax, 
that  the  Master  of  the  Rolls  was  knocked  down  in  cross- 
ing the  Fields,  the  centre  was  railed  in.  This  was  done 
about  1735,  with  a  view  to  improving  their  condition, 
and  they  remained  closed,  and  kept  up  by  the  inhabitants, 
until  a  few  years  ago.  The  chief  feature  in  the  pleasant 
gardens  now  are  the  very  fine  trees.  There  are  some 
patriarchal  planes,  with  immense  branches,  under  which 
numbers  of  people  are  always  to  be  seen  resting.  The 
houses.  Old  Lindsay  House,  Newcastle  House,  the 
College  of  Surgeons,  Sir  John  Soane's  Museum,  with 
long  histories  of  their  own,  and  all  the  lesser  ones,  with 
a  sleepy  air  of  dingy  respectability  and  ancient  splendour, 
now  look  down  on  a  most  peaceful,  well-kept  garden,  and 
Gay's  lines  of  warning  are  no  longer  a  necessary  caution  : — 

"  Where  Lincoln's  Inn  wide  space  is  rail'd  around, 
Cross  not  with  venturous  step  ;  there  oft  is  found 
The  lurking  thief,  who,  while  the  daylight  shone, 
Made  the  walls  echo  with  his  begging  tone  ; 
That  crutch,  which  late  compassion  moved,  shall  wound 
Thy  bleeding  head,  and  fell  thee  to  the  ground." 

Adjoining  the  Fields  is  New  Square,  which  used  to  be 
known  as  Little  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  and  earlier  still  as 


236     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

Fickett's  Field  or  Croft.  It  was  built  in  1687,  Fickett's 
Fields  occupied  a  wider  area,  and  until  1620  they,  like 
the  larger  Fields,  were  a  place  of  execution.  The  site  of 
New  Square  was  planted  and  laid  out  in  very  early  days. 
The  Knights  of  St.  John  in  1376  made  it  into  a  walking 
place,  planted  with  trees,  for  the  clerks,  apprentices,  and 
students  of  the  law.  In  1399  a  certain  Roger  Legit  was 
fined  and  imprisoned  for  setting  mantraps  with  a  "  mali- 
cious intention  to  maim  the  said  clerks  and  others,"  as 
they  strolled  in  their  shaded  walks.  This  Square,  like  all 
others,  went  through  phases  of  being  unkept  and  untidy, 
but  was  finally  remodelled,  into  its  present  neat  form,  in 
1845. 

Eastwards,  into  the  heart  of  London  there  are  the 
squares  which  are  the  remains  of  the  open  ground 
without  the  City  walls.  Charterhouse  Square,  which  is 
now  a  retired,  quiet  spot  with  old  houses  telling  of  a 
former  prosperity,  has  a  history  reaching  back  to  the 
fourteenth  century.  In  the  days  of  the  Black  Death, 
when  people  were  dying  so  fast  that  the  Chronicler  of 
London,  Stowe,  says  that  "  scarce  the  tenth  person  of  all 
sorts  was  left  alive,"  the  "  churchyards  were  not  sufficient 
to  receive  the  dead,  but  men  were  forced  to  chuse  out 
certaine  fields  for  burials  :  whereupon  Ralph  Stratford, 
Bishop  of  London,  in  the  yeere  1348  bought  a  piece  of 
ground,  called  No  mans  land^  which  he  inclosed  with  a 
wall  of  Bricke,  and  dedicated  for  buriall  of  the  dead, 
builded  thereupon  a  proper  Chappell,  which  is  now 
enlarged,  and  made  a  dwelling-house  :  and  this  burying 
plot  is  become  a  faire  Garden,  retaining  the  old  name 
of  Pardon  Churchyard."  It  was  very  soon  after  this 
purchase,  that  the  Carthusian  monastery  was  founded 
hard    by ;    but    although   the   land   was   bought   by   the 


SQUARES  237 

Order,  Pardon  Churchyard  was  maintained  as  a  burial- 
ground  for  felons  and  suicides.  After  the  dissolution 
of  the  monasteries,  when  Charterhouse  School  and 
Hospital  had  been  established  by  Thomas  Sutton,  the 
houses  round  the  other  three  sides  of  the  Square  began 
to  be  built.  One  of  the  finest  was  Rutland  House,  once 
the  residence  of  the  Venetian  Ambassador.  It  is  still  a 
quiet,  quaint  place  of  old  memories ;  and  the  garden, 
with  two  walks  crossing  each  other  diagonally,  and  some 
fair-sized  trees,  has  a  solemn  look,  as  if,  even  after  all 
the  centuries  that  have  passed,  it  had  some  trace  of  its 
origin.  Finsbury  Circus  and  Finsbury  Square  are  very 
different.  They  are  more  modern,  bustling  places  which 
have  entirely  effaced  the  past.  That  they  were,  for  long 
years,  the  most  resorted  to  of  open  spaces,  where  Lon- 
doners took  their  walks  is  well-nigh  forgotten,  except 
in  the  name  Finsbury,  or  Fensbury,  the  fen  or  moor- 
like fields  without  the  walls.  Bethlehem  Hospital, 
known  as  Bedlam,  was,  for  many  generations,  the  only 
large  building  on  the  Fields.  Finsbury  Square  was 
begun  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  but  for  the 
few  green  trees,  nothing  suggests  the  former  country 
origin.  Trinity  Square,  by  the  Tower,  is  so  unique 
in  aspect  and  association  that  it  must  be  mentioned.  In 
the  sixteenth  century  the  "  tenements  and  garden  plots  " 
encroached  on  Tower  Hill  right  up  to  the  "  Tower 
Ditch,"  and  from  the  earliest  time  some  kind  of  garden 
existed  at  the  Tower.  When  it  was  a  royal  residence, 
frequent  entries  appear  in  the  accounts  of  payments  for 
the  upkeep  of  the  garden.  Although  so  much  has 
changed,  and  the  wild  animals  that  afforded  amusement 
for  centuries  are  removed,  it  is  pleasant  to  see  the  moat 
turned  into  walks,  and  well  planted  with  iris  and  hardy 


238     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

plants,  and  making  quite  a  bright  show  in  summer,  in 
contrast  to  the  sombre  grey  walls. 

Away  in  the  East  End  there  are  numbers  of  other 
gloomy  little  squares  whose  gardens  are  the  playground 
of  the  neighbourhood.  They  are  useful  spaces  of  air 
and  light,  and  the  few  trees  and  low  houses  surrounding 
them  give  a  little  ventilation  in  some  of  the  very  crowded 
districts.  They  are  all  much  alike  ;  in  some  more  care 
has  been  taken  in  the  planting  and  selection  of  the  trees 
than  in  others.  There  is  De  Beauvoir  Square,  Dalston  ; 
Arbour  Square,  off  the  Commercial  Road  ;  York  Square, 
Stepney  ;  Wellclose,  near  the  Mint  and  London  Docks ; 
Trafalgar  Square,  Mile  End  ;  and  many  others  dotted 
about  among  the  dismal  streets.  Turning  to  the 
West  End  again,  the  largest  of  the  square  spaces  is 
Vincent  Square,  which  forms  the  playground  of  the 
Westminster  boys.  It  derives  its  name  from  Dr.  Vincent, 
the  head-master  who  was  chiefly  instrumental  in  ob- 
taining it  for  the  use  of  the  boys.  It  was  first  marked 
out  in  1 8 10,  and  enclosed  by  railings  in  1842.  The 
10  acres  of  ground  were  part  of  Tothill  Fields,  and  the 
site  was  a  burial-place  in  the  time  of  the  Great  Plague. 

There  is  nothing  of  historical  interest  in  the  Squares 
of  Belgravia.  The  ground  covered  by  Belgrave  Square 
was  known  as  Five  Fields,  which  were  so  swampy  that 
no  one  had  attempted  to  build  on  them.  It  was  the 
celebrated  builder,  Thomas  Cubitt,  who  in  1825  was 
able  by  draining,  and  removing  clay,  which  he  used  for 
bricks,  to  reach  a  solid  foundation,  and  in  a  few  years 
had  built  Belgrave  and  Eaton  Squares  and  the  streets 
adjoining.  The  site  of  the  centre  of  Belgrave  Square 
was  then  a  market-garden.  Ebury  Square,  the  garden 
of  which  is  open  to  the  public,  and  tastefully  laid  out, 


SQUARES  239 

was  built  about  1820.  The  farm  on  that  spot,  which 
in  1676  came  to  the  Grosvenor  family,  was  a  farm  of 
430  acres  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,  and  is  mentioned 
as  early  as  1307,  when  Edward  I.  gave  John  de 
Benstede  permission  to  fortify  it.  There  was  only  one 
road  across  the  swampy  ground  from  St.  James's  to 
Chelsea,  and  that  was  the  King's  Road,  which  followed 
the  line  of  the  centre  of  Eaton  Square.  There  were, 
however,  numerous  footpaths,  infested  by  footpads  and 
robbers  at  night,  and  bright  with  wild  flowers  and 
scented  by  briar  roses  by  day.  There  is  a  great  same- 
ness among  all  the  squares  between  Vauxhall  Bridge 
and  the  Pimlico  Road.  Of  this  latter  original-sounding 
name  there  seems  no  satisfactory  explanation.  The 
space  between  Warwick  Street  and  the  river,  was  in 
old  times  occupied  by  the  Manor  House  of  Neyte, 
and  in  later  days  by  nurseries  and  a  tea  garden,  known 
as  the  Neat  House.  The  ground  near  Eccleston  Square 
was  an  osier  bed.  The  whole  surface  was  raised  by 
Cubitt,  with  soil  from  St.  Katherine's  Docks  in  1827, 
and  the  houses  built,  and  square  gardens  laid  out ;  Eccle- 
ston in  1835,  Warwick  1843,  ^c  George's  1850,  and  so 
on  until  the  whole  was  covered.  The  gardens  are  all 
in  the  same  style,  and  have  no  horticultural  interest. 
The  garden  in  front  of  Cadogan  Place  varied  most  from 
the  usual  pattern,  having  been  designed  by  Repton. 
"  Instead  of  raising  the  surface  to  the  level  of  the  street, 
as  had  usually  been  the  custom,  by  bringing  earth  from 
a  distance,"  he  "  recommended  a  valley  to  be  formed 
through  its  whole  length,  with  other  lesser  valleys  flow- 
ing from  it,  and  hills  to  be  raised  by  the  ground  so 
taken  from  the  valleys."  The  original  intention  was  to 
bring    the    overflow    of   the    Serpentine   down    Repton's 


240     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

valley,  but  this  was  never  done,  and  the  gardens  now 
only  show  the  variation  of  level  in  one  part.  There  is 
a  good  assortment  of  trees,  and  a  group  of  mulberries 
which  bear  fruit  every  year. 

Further  west  again,  the  old  hamlet  of  Brompton  has 
small,  quiet  squares  of  its  own.  The  trees  of  Brompton 
Square,  that  quiet  cul-de-sac,  and  the  way  through  with  a 
nice  row  of  trees  to  Holy  Trinity  Church  (built  in  i  829), 
with  Cottage  Place  running  parallel  with  it,  is  rather 
unlike  any  other  corner  of  London.  Before  it  was 
built  over  Brompton  was  famous  for  its  gardens — first 
that  of  London  and  Wise,  in  the  reign  of  William  III. 
and  Anne,  and  then  that  of  William  Curtis,  the  editor 
of  the  Botanical  Magazine.  A  guide-book  of  1792,  de- 
scribes Brompton  as  "  a  populous  hamlet  of  Kensington, 
adjoining  Knightsbridge,  remarkable  for  the  salubrity 
of  its  air.  This  place  was  the  residence  of  Oliver 
Cromwell."  Kensington  Square  is  older  than  any  of  the 
Brompton  Squares,  having  been  begun  in  James  II. 's 
reign,  and  completed  after  William  III.  was  living  in 
Kensington  Palace.  From  the  first  it  was  very  fashion- 
able, and  has  many  celebrated  names  connected  with 
it — Addison,  Talleyrand,  Archbishop  Herring,  John 
Stuart  Mill,  and  many  others.  The  weeping  ash  trees 
and  circular  beds  give  the  gardens  a  character  of  their 
own.  Edwardes  differs  from  all  other  London  Squares. 
The  small  houses  and  large  square  garden  are  said  by 
Leigh  Hunt,  who  lived  there  at  one  time,  to  have  been 
laid  out  to  suit  the  taste  of  French  refugees,  who  it  was 
thought  might  take  up  their  quarters  there.  The  small 
houses  were  to  suit  their  empty  pockets,  and  the  large 
garden  their  taste  for  a  sociable  out-of-door  life. 
Loudon  was   an  admirer   of  the  design  of  the   garden. 


SQUARES  241 

which  he  says  was  made  by  Aiglio,  an  eminent  land- 
scape painter,  in  18 19.  The  arrangement  is  quite  distinct 
from  other  squares — small  paths,  partly  hidden  by 
groups  of  bushes  and  larger  trees,  all  round  the  edge, 
and  from  them  twisting  walks  diverge  towards  the 
centre.  At  their  meeting-point  now  stands  a  shell 
from  the  battle  of  Alma.  The  Square  with  its  nice 
trees,  standard  hollies,  and  even  a  few  conifers  and 
carefully-planted  beds,  is  further  original  in  possessing 
a  beadle.  This  gentleman,  who  lives  in  a  delightful 
little  house,  with  a  portico  in  which  the  visitors  to 
the  Square  can  shelter  from  the  rain,  looks  most  im- 
posing in  his  uniform  and  gold-braided  hat,  and  adds 
greatly  to  the  old-world  appearance  of  the  place.  It 
is  sad  to  think  the  leases  all  fall  in  within  the  next 
few  years,  and  this  quaint  personage  and  vast  garden 
(it  is  3I  acres)  and  funny  little  houses  may  all  dis- 
appear from  London. 

It  is  impossible  in  such  a  hasty  glance  to  give 
more  than  a  very  faint  sketch  of  the  story  of  the 
squares,  or  a  mere  suggestion  of  the  romance  attached 
to  them.  Though  the  gardening  in  many  leaves  much 
to  be  desired,  it  is  well  to  appreciate  things  as  they 
are,  and  enjoy  to  the  full  the  pleasure  the  sight  of 
the  huge  planes  in  Berkeley  or  Bedford  Squares,  or 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  can  bring  even  to  the  harassed 
Londoner.  When  the  sun  shines  through  the  large 
leaves,  and  the  chequered  light  and  shade  play  on  the 
grass  beneath,  and  sunbeams  even  light  up  the  massive 
black  stems,  which  defy  the  injurious  fogs,  they  possess 
a  soothing  and  refreshing  power.  They,  indeed,  add  to 
the  enjoyment,  the  health,  and  the  beauty  of  London. 


CHAPTER    X 

BURIAL-GROUNDS 

Praises  on  tombs  are  trifles  vainly  spent, 
A  man  s  good  name  is  his  best  monument. 

—  Epitaph  in   St.   Botolph,  Aldersgatf.. 


HE  disused  burial-grounds  within 
the  London  area  must  now  be 
counted  among  its  gardens.  There 
are  those  who  would  not  have  the 
living  benefit  by  these  hallowed 
spots  set  apart  for  the  dead,  but 
the  vast  majority  of  people  have 
welcomed  the  movement  which 
has  led  to  this  change.  In  some  instances  there  is  no 
doubt  the  transformation  has  been  badly  done.  Here 
and  there  graves  have  been  disturbed  and  tombstones 
heedlessly  moved,  but  on  the  whole  the  improvement 
of  the  last  fifty  years  has  been  immense.  It  is  appalling 
even  to  read  the  accounts  of  many  of  the  London  grave- 
yards before  this  reaction  set  in.  The  hideous  sights, 
the  foul  condition  in  which  God's  acre  was  often  allowed 
to  remain,  as  revealed  by  the  inquiry  held  about  1850, 
together  with  the  horrors  of  body-snatchers,  are  such 
a  disagreeable  contrast  to  the  orderly  graveyards  of 
to-day,  that  the  removal  of  a  few  head-stones  is  a  much 
lesser  evil. 

Loudon,   in    the    Botanical  Magazine^    was    one    of 

242 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  243 

the    first    to    write    about    the    improvement    of   public 
cemeteries,  and  to  point  out  how  they  could  be  beauti- 
fied, and  the  suggestion  that  the  smaller  burial-grounds 
could  be  turned  into  gardens  was  made  as  early  as  i  843 
by  Sir  Edwin  Chadwick.     But  the  closing  of  them  did 
not  come  until  ten  years  later,  and  it  was  many  years 
after  that,   before  any  attempt  was  made  to  turn  them 
into  gardens.      By    1877    eight   had  been   transformed, 
and  from  that  time  onwards,  every  year  something  has 
been    done.      The    Metropolitan    Gardens    Association, 
started  by  Lord  Meath  (then  Lord  Brabazon)  in  1882, 
has  done  much  towards  accomplishing  this  work.      One 
of  the  earliest  churchyards  taken  in  hand  was  that  of  St. 
Pancras,  and  joined  to  it  St.  Giles-in-the-Fields.      The 
Act   permitting  this  was  in    1875.      Perhaps  because  it 
was  one  of  the  first,  it   is   also  one  of  the  worst  in  taste 
and   arrangement.     The    church   of   St.    Pancras-in-the- 
Fields  is   one   of  the  oldest   in    Middlesex.      "  For  the 
antiquity  thereof"  it   "is   thought  not  to   yield   to  St. 
Paul's  in  London."     In   1593  the  houses  standing  near 
this  old  Norman  church  were  much  "  decaied,   leaving 
poore   Pancras    without    companie    or    comfort."      The 
bell  of  St.  Pancras  Church  was  said  to  be  the  last  tolled 
in    England    at   the   time    of  the   Reformation,    to   call 
people   to   Mass.      In   the    seventeenth    and    eighteenth 
century,  adjoining  to  the  south  side  of  the  churchyard, 
was  "  a   good   spaw,   whose  water  is  of  a  sweet  taste," 
very  clear,  and  imbued  with  various  medicinal  qualities. 
These    "  Pancras    Wells "    had    a    large    garden,    which 
extended   from  the    Spa   buildings   by   the   churchyard, 
between  the  coach  road  from  Hampstead,  and  the  foot- 
path across  the  meadows  to  Gray's  Inn.     As  late  as  1772 
the  coach  was  stopped  and  robbed  at  this  corner,  and 


244     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

the  footpads,  armed  with  cutlasses,  made  ofF  through 
the  churchyard.  It  was  of  this  then  lonely,  rural  church- 
yard that  it  was  said  the  dead  would  rest  "  as  secure 
against  the  day  of  resurrection  as  .  .  .  in  stately  Paules"; 
but,  alas  for  modern  exigencies,  the  Midland  Railway 
now  spans  the  sacred  ground  by  a  viaduct,  and  the 
would-be  improvers,  in  turning  what  remained  into  a 
garden,  have  moved  the  tombstones,  levelled  the  un- 
dulating ground,  and  heaped  the  head-stones  into 
terrible  rocky  mounds,  or  pushed  them  in  rows  along 
the  wall.  Numerous  were  the  interesting  monuments  it 
contained ;  many  a  courtly  French  emigre  here  found 
a  resting-place,  such  as  the  Comte  de  Front,  on  whose 
tomb  was  the  line,  "  A  foreign  land  preserves  his  ashes 
with  respect."  Although  a  monumental  tablet  put  up 
to  record  the  opening,  and  the  names  of  the  designers 
of  the  garden,  proclaims  it  to  be  "  a  boon  to  the  living, 
a  grace  to  the  dead "  ;  it  is  doubtful  how  that  respect 
to  the  dead  was  shown.  The  lines  go  on  to  say  it  was 
"  not  for  the  culture  of  health  only,  but  also  of 
thought."  Surely  health  and  thought  could  have  been 
equally  well  stimulated  by  making  pretty  paths,  lined 
with  trees  and  flowers,  wind  reverently  in  and  out 
among  the  tombs,  and  up  and  down  the  undulating 
ground,  with  seats  in  shade  or  sun,  arranged  with  peeps 
of  the  old  church  ;  and  there  might  even  have  been 
room  for  the  fine  sun-dial  (the  gift  of  Baroness 
Burdett-Coutts)  without  levelling  the  whole  area  and 
laying  it  out  with  geometrically  straight  asphalt  walks. 
The  asphalt  paths  are  in  themselves  a  necessity  in 
most  cases,  as  the  expense  of  keeping  gravel  in  order 
is  too  great,  and  the  majority  of  the  renovated  dis- 
used burial-grounds  suffer  from  this  fact. 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  245 

Westward  from  St.  Pancras  the  next  large  church- 
yard is  that  of  Marylebone,  and  further  to  the  north 
is  St.  John's  Wood  burial-ground.  Its  large  trees  and 
shaded  walks  are  familiar  to  the  thousands  who  go 
every  year  to  Lord's  Cricket  Ground.  Another  large 
one,  still  more  westward,  now  used  as  a  garden,  is 
Paddington.  The  small  green  patch  round  St.  Mary's 
Church,  and  a  large  cemetery  beyond,  together  make 
over  4  acres.  All  round  London  these  spaces  are  being 
used,  and  in  most  cases  little  has  been  done  to  upset  the 
ground — among  the  more  prominent  are  St.  George's, 
Hanover  Square,  in  Bayswater ;  St.  John's,  Waterloo 
Road  ;  Brixton  Parish  Church,  with  a  row  of  yew 
trees  ;  Fulham  Parish  Church,  with  Irish  yews,  and  tall, 
closely  clipped  hollies ;  St.  Mary's,  Upper  Street,  Isling- 
ton, and  many  others.  Some  are  large  spaces,  such  as 
St.  John-at-Hackney,  which  covers  3  acres,  and  in  it 
stands  the  tower  of  the  old  church,  the  present  very 
large  church  which  dominates  it  being  in  the  Georgian 
style  of  1797. 

Stepney  is  the  largest  of  all  these  disused  church- 
yards, and  covers  7  acres.  It  was  opened  as  a  public 
garden  in  1887.  The  beautiful  old  Perpendicular 
church  of  St.  Dunstan,  with  its  carved  gargoyles  and 
fine  old  tower,  which  escaped  the  fire  that  destroyed  the 
roof,  stands  on  a  low  level,  with  the  large  square  stone 
graves,  of  which  there  are  a  great  quantity,  on  higher 
mounds  round  it.  The  central  path,  the  old  approach 
to  the  church,  has  trees  on  either  side,  and  runs  straight 
across  the  graveyard,  and  is  as  peaceful-looking  as  the 
walk  in  many  a  country  churchyard.  The  way  the  lay- 
ing out  as  a  garden  has  been  carried  out  is  unfortunate 
in  many  respects.     The  number  of  the  big,  stone,  box-like 


246     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

monuments  made  it  difficult  to  carry  intersecting  paths 
across  between  them,  so  a  plan  hardly  to  be  commended 
has  been  followed,  of  half  burying  a  number  of  these,  and 
planting  bushes  in  the  earth  thus  thrown  about,  and 
putting  the  necessary  frames  for  raising  plants  in  the 
centre.  To  place  the  frames  against  the  wall,  and  make 
a  raised  path  or  terrace  among  the  tombs,  and  not  to 
have  banked  them  up  with  a  kind  of  rockery  of  broken 
pieces,  might  have  been  more  fitting.  The  part  of  the 
ground  which  is  less  crowded  is  well  planted.  Birch  and 
alder  (^Alnus  cordifolia)  are  doing  well,  and  a  nice  clump 
of  gorse  flourishes. 

One  of  the  best-arranged  of  these  old  East  End 
graveyards  is  that  of  St.  George's-in-the-East,  near 
Ratcliffis  Highway.  It  is  kept  up  by  the  Borough 
of  Stepney,  having  been  put  in  order  under  the  direc- 
tion of  the  rector.  Rev.  C.  H.  Turner  (now  Bishop  of 
Islington),  at  the  expense  of  Mr.  A.  G.  Crowder,  in 
1866.  The  tombstones  have  for  the  most  part  been 
placed  against  the  wall,  or  left  standing  if  out  of  the 
way,  as  in  the  case  of  the  one  to  the  Marr  family,  whose 
murder  caused  horror  in  181  i.  In  the  centre  stands  the 
obelisk  monument  to  Mrs.  Raine,  a  benefactress  of  the 
parish,  who  died  in  1725.  The  whole  of  the  ground  is 
laid  out  with  great  taste  and  simplicity,  and  is  thoroughly 
well  cared  for.  The  flowers  seem  to  flourish  particularly 
well,  and  the  borders  in  summer  are  redolent  with  the 
scent  of  old  clove  carnations,  which  are  actually  raised 
and  kept  from  year  to  year  on  the  premises.  A  small 
green-house  supplies  the  needs  of  the  flower-beds.  The 
superintendence  of  the  garden  is  left  to  Miss  Kate  Hall, 
who  takes  charge  of  the  Borough  of  Stepney  Museum  in 
Whitechapel    Road,    and    also    of   the    charming     little 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  247 

nature-study  museum  in  the  St.  George's  Churchyard 
Garden.  What  formerly  was  the  mortuary  has  been 
turned  to  good  account,  and  hundreds  of  children  in  the 
borough  benefit  by  Miss  Hall's  instruction.  Aquaria  both 
for  fresh-water  fish  and  shells,  and  salt-water  collections, 
with  a  lobster,  starfish,  sea  anemones,  and  growing  sea 
weeds  are  to  be  seen,  and  moths,  butterflies,  dragon-flies, 
pass  through  all  their  stages,  while  toads,  frogs,  and 
salamanders  and  such-like  are  a  great  delight.  The 
hedgehog  spends  his  summer  in  the  garden,  and 
hibernates  comfortably  in  the  museum.  The  bees  at 
work  in  the  glass  hive  are  another  source  of  instruc- 
tion. Outside  the  museum  a  special  plot  is  tended  by 
the  pupils,  who  are  allowed  in  turn  to  work,  dig,  and 
prune,  and  who  obtain,  under  the  eye  of  their  sym- 
pathetic teacher,  most  creditable  results.  The  charm  of 
this  East  End  garden,  and  the  special  educational  uses  it 
has  been  put  to,  shows  what  can  be  achieved,  and  sets  a 
good  example  to  others,  where  similar  opportunities  exist. 
A  less  promising  neighbourhood  for  gardening  could 
hardly  be  imagined,  which  surely  shows  that  no  one  need 
be  disheartened. 

Some  of  the  burial-grounds  were  in  such  a  shocking 
state  before  they  were  taken  in  hand,  that  very  few  of 
the  head-stones  remained  in  their  right  places,  and  many 
had  gone  altogether,  while  some  even  reappeared  as  pav- 
ing-stones in  the  district.  Spa  Fields,  Clerkenwell,  had  a 
very  chequered  history.  The  site  was  first  a  tea  garden, 
near  the  famous  Sadler's  Wells.  For  a  few  years,  from 
1770,  its  "little  Pantheon"  and  pretty  garden,  with  a 
pond  or  "  canal  "  stocked  with  fish,  and  alcoves  for  tea 
drinkers,  was  thronged  by  the  middle  class,  small  trades- 
men, and  apprentices,  while  the  more  fashionable  world 


248     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

flocked  to  Ranelagh  or  Almack's.  It  was  the  sort  of 
place  in  which  John  Gilpin  and  his  spouse  might  have 
amused  themselves,  on  a  less  important  holiday  than  their 
wedding  anniversary.  Twenty  years  later  the  scene  had 
changed.  The  rotunda  was  turned  into  a  chapel,  by  the 
Countess  of  Huntingdon,  who  took  up  her  residence  in 
a  jessamine-covered  house  that  had  been  a  tavern,  near 
to  it.  The  gardens  had  already  been  turned  into  a 
private  burial-ground,  which  soon  became  notorious  for 
the  evil  condition  in  which  it  was  kept.  There  every 
single  gravestone  had  disappeared  long  before  it  was  con- 
verted into  the  neat  little  garden,  the  delight  of  poor 
Clerkenwell  children.  The  rotunda  was  at  length 
pulled  down,  and  in  1888  a  new  church  was  erected  on 
the  site.  The  same  disgraceful  story  of  neglect  and 
repulsive  overcrowding,  can  be  told  of  the  Victoria  Park 
Cemetery,  although  the  ground  had  not  such  a  strange 
early  history.  It  was  one  of  those  private  cemeteries 
which  the  legislation  with  regard  to  other  burial-places 
did  not  touch.  It  was  never  consecrated,  and  abuses  of 
every  kind  were  connected  with  it.  It  is  a  space  of  9^ 
acres  in  a  crowded  district  between  Bethnal  Green  and 
Bow,  a  little  to  the  south  of  Victoria  Park.  After 
various  difficulties  in  raising  funds  and  so  forth,  it  was 
laid  out  by  the  Metropolitan  Gardens  Association, 
opened  to  the  public  in  1894,  and  is  kept  up  by  the 
London  County  Council,  and  is  an  extremely  popular 
recreation  ground,  under  the  name  of  "  Meath  Gardens." 
One  of  the  quiet  spots  near  the  City  is  Bunhill  Fields. 
This  has  for  over  two  hundred  years  been  the  Noncon- 
formist burial-ground.  The  land  was  enclosed  by  a  brick 
wall,  by  the  City  of  London  in  1665  for  interments  "in 
that  dreadful  year  of  Pestilence.     However,  it  not  being 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  249 

made  use  of  on  that  occasion,"  a  man  called  "  Tindal  took 
a  lease  thereof,  and  converted  it  into  a  burial-ground  for 
the  use  of  Dissenters."  As  late  as  1756  it  appears  to 
have  been  known  as  "  Tindal's  Burial-ground."  The 
name  Bunhill  Fields  was  given  to  that  part  of  Finsbury 
Fields,  on  to  which  quantities  of  bones  were  taken  from 
St.  Paul's  in  1549.  It  is  said  "above  a  thousand  cart- 
loads of  human  bones"  were  deposited  there.  No 
wonder  the  ghastly  name  of  "  bone  hill,"  corrupted  into 
Bunhill,  has  clung  to  the  place.  At  the  present  time 
the  gravestones  here  are  undisturbed,  and  more  respect 
has  been  shown  to  them  than  to  the  bones  in  the  six- 
teenth century.  Asphalt  paths  meander  through  a  forest 
of  monuments,  and  a  few  seats  are  placed  in  the  shade 
of  some  of  the  trees.  Those  who  live  in  this  poor 
and  busy  district  no  doubt  make  much  use  of  these 
places  of  rest,  but  the  visitor  is  only  brought  to  this 
depressing,  gloomy  spot  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  tomb 
of  John  Bunyan.  He  rests  near  the  centre  of  the 
ground,  under  a  modern  effigy.  Not  far  off  is  the 
tomb  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts,  whose  hymns  are  repeated 
wherever  the  British  tongue  is  spoken,  and  near  him  lies 
the  author  of  "  Robinson  Crusoe,"  Daniel  Defoe.  This 
quaint  old  enclosure  opens  off  the  City  Road,  opposite 
Wesley's  Chapel,  and  on  the  western  side  it  is  skirted 
by  Bunhill  Row.  But  a  few  yards  distant  is  another 
graveyard  of  very  different  aspect,  as  it  contains  only 
one  stone,  and  that  a  very  small  one,  with  the  name  of 
George  Fox,  who  died  in  1690.  The  other  graves  in 
this,  the  "  Friends'  Burial-ground,"  never  having  been 
marked  in  any  way,  it  has  the  appearance  of  a  dismal 
little  garden,  like  the  approach  or  "  gravel  sweep "  to 
a  suburban  villa.      But  it  is  neatly  kept. 


250     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

Of  all  the  churchyards,  that  of  St.  Paul's  is  best 
known,  and  least  like  the  ordinary  idea  of  one.  But 
this  was  not  always  so.  It  was  for  centuries  an  actual 
burying-piace.  When  the  foundations  of  the  present 
cathedral  were  dug,  after  the  Great  Fire,  a  series  of  early 
burials  were  disclosed.  There  were  Saxon  coffins,  and 
below  them  British  graves,  where  wooden  and  ivory  pins 
were  found,  which  fastened  the  woollen  shrouds  of  those 
who  rested  there,  and  below  that  again,  between  twenty 
and  thirty  feet  deep,  were  Roman  remains,  with  frag- 
ments of  pottery,  rings,  beads,  and  such-like. 

The  original  churchyard  was  very  much  larger,  as  the 
present  houses  in  "  St.  Paul's  Churchyard  "  are  actually 
on  part  of  the  ground  included  in  it.  It  extended  from 
Old  Change  in  Cheapside  to  Paternoster  Row,  and  on 
the  south  to  Carter  Lane,  and  the  whole  was  surrounded 
by  a  wall  built  in  1 109,  with  the  principal  gateway  open- 
ing into  "  Ludgate  Street."  This  wall  seems  to  have 
been  unfinished,  or  else  part  of  it  became  ruinous  in 
course  of  time,  and  the  churchyard  became  the  resort 
of  thieves  and  ruffians.  To  remedy  this  state  of  things, 
the  wall  was  completed  and  fortified  early  in  the  four- 
teenth century.  It  had  six  gates,  and  remained  like  this 
until  the  Great  Fire,  although  long  before  that  date 
houses  had  been  built  against  the  wall  both  within  and 
without.  Round  here  were  collected  the  shops  of  the 
most  famous  booksellers,  such  as  John  Day,  who  came 
here  in  1575. 

On  the  north  side  was  a  plot  of  ground  known  as 
Pardon's  Churchyard,  and  here  was  built  a  cloister  in 
Henry  V.'s  time,  decorated  with  paintings  to  illus- 
trate Lidgate's  translation  of  "  The  Dance  of  Death." 
Here,   too,   was   a    chapel    and    charnel-house,    and    the 


ST.  PAUL'S  CHURCHYARD 


Great  1 
re  were   Sa 


md  fortified  e: 

IX  gates,  and  remained  like  thi 


were  col. 
,  such  as  J' 


„as  a    ^^' 
and   h 
^corated    v 


a^AYHDMUHD  2UUA^  .T2 

liLiui      a. 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  251 

whole  was  pulled  down  by  order  of  the  Protector 
Somerset,  who  used  some  of  the  material  in  building 
Somerset  House.  It  was  on  that  occasion  that  the 
cartloads  of  hones  were  removed  to  Finsbury  Fields. 
There,  covered  with  earth,  they  made  a  solid,  con- 
spicuous hill  on  which  windmills  were  erected.  It  was 
part  of  this  same  ground  which  has  already  been  referred 
to  as  Bunhill  Fields.  Great  as  was  the  damage  done  by 
the  Fire,  perhaps  no  site  has  been  so  completely  altered  as 
that  of  St.  Paul's.  The  modern  cathedral,  dearly  loved 
by  all  Londoners,  stands  at  quite  a  different  angle  from 
the  old  one,  the  western  limit  of  which  is  marked  by  the 
statue  of  Queen  Anne.  Nestling  close  to  the  south-west 
corner  of  the  great  Gothic  cathedral  with  its  lofty  spire, 
was  the  parish  church  of  St.  Gregory,  and  the  crypt  was 
the  parish  church  of  St.  Faith's.  Both  these  parishes 
were  allocated  a  portion  of  the  churchyard  for  their 
burials. 

To  the  north-east  of  the  cathedral  stood  Paul's 
Cross,  the  out-door  pulpit  whence  many  notable  sermons 
were  preached.  It  is  described  by  Stowe.  "  About  the 
middest  of  this  Churchyard  is  a  pulpit-crosse  of  timber, 
mounted  upon  steps  of  stone,  and  covered  with  Lead,  in 
which  are  Sermons  preached  by  learned  Divines,  every 
Sunday  in  the  fore-noone.  The  very  antiquity  of  which 
Crosse  is  to  me  unknowne."  The  earliest  scene  he 
records  as  taking  place  at  this  "  crosse,"  was  when 
Henry  III.,  in  1259,  commanded  the  Mayor  to  cause 
"  every  stripling  of  twelve  years  of  age  and  upward  to 
assemble  there,"  to  swear  "  to  be  true  to  the  King  and 
his  heires.  Kings  of  England."  In  later  times,  the  most 
distinguished  preachers  of  the  day  were  summoned  to 
preach  before  the  Court  and  the  Mayor,  Aldermen  and 


252     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

citizens,  and  the  political  significance  of  such  harangues 
may  well  be  imagined.  It  was  here  Papal  Bulls  wtre 
promulgated ;  here  Tyndal's  translation  of  the  New 
Testament  was  publicly  burnt ;  here  Queen  Elizabeth 
listened  to  a  sermon  of  thanksgiving  on  the  defeat  of 
the  Armada — only  to  mention  a  few  of  the  associations 
that  cling  round  the  spot,  which,  until  within  the  last 
fifty  years,  was  marked  by  an  old  elm  tree  which  kept  its 
memory  green.  Now  it  is  treated  with  scant  respect. 
There  is,  indeed,  a  little  wooden  notice-board,  like  a 
giant  flower-label,  stuck  into  the  ground  by  an  iron 
support,  which  records  the  fact  that  here  stood  Paul's 
Cross,  destroyed  by  the  Fire  of  1666.  The  notice  is  not 
so  large  or  conspicuous  as  the  one  a  few  feet  from  it, 
beseeching  the  kindly  friends  of  the  pigeons  not  to  feed 
them  on  the  flower-beds  !  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  before 
long  the  bequest  of  ;{^5000  of  the  late  H.  C.  Richards, 
for  the  re-erection  of  the  Cross,  may  be  embodied  in  some 
visible  form. 

What  a  picture  such  recollections  call  up  ! — the  ex- 
cited crowds  with  all  the  colour  of  Tudor  costumes,  the 
eager,  fanatical  faces  of  the  "  defenders  of  the  Faith," 
the  sad  and  despondent  faces  of  the  intensely  serious 
Reformers,  as  they  see  the  blue  smoke  curl  upwards,  and 
the  flames  consume  the  sacred  volumes. 

Picture  the  churchyard  once  more  in  still  earlier 
times,  when  strange,  fantastic  customs  clung  round  the 
cathedral  services.  One  of  the  most  original  seems  to 
have  arisen  from  the  tenure  of  land  in  Essex  granted  to 
Sir  William  Baud  by  the  Dean  and  Chapter.  The 
twenty-two  acres  of  land  were  held  on  the  condition 
that  "  hee  would  (for  ever)  upon  the  Feast  day  of  the 
Conversion  of  Paul  in  Winter  give  unto  them  a  good 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  253 

Doe,  seasonable  and  sweete,  and  upon  the  Feast  of  the 
Commemoration  of  St.  Paul  in  Summer,  a  good  Buck, 
and  offer  the  same  at  the  high  Altar,  the  same  to  bee 
spent  amongst  the  Canons  residents."  On  the  appointed 
days  the  keeper  who  had  brought  the  deer  carried  it 
through  the  procession  to  the  high  altar.  There  the 
head  was  severed,  and  the  body  sent  off  to  be  cooked, 
while  the  horns,  stuck  on  a  spear,  were  carried  round  the 
cathedral.  The  procession  consisted  of  the  Dean  and 
Chapter  in  their  copes — special  ones  for  the  two  occa- 
sions— one  embroidered  with  does,  the  other  with  bucks, 
the  gift  of  the  Baud  family,  and  on  their  heads  garlands 
of  roses.  Having  performed  the  ceremony  within  the 
church,  the  whole  procession  issued  out  of  the  west 
door,  and  there  the  keeper  blew  a  blast  upon  his  horn, 
and  when  he  had  "  blowed  the  death  of  the  Bucke," 
the  "  Homers  that  were  about  the  City  presently  answered 
him  in  like  manner."  The  Dean  and  Chapter  paid  the 
blowers  of  horns  fourpence  each  and  their  dinner,  while 
the  man  who  brought  the  venison  got  five  shillings  and 
his  food  and  lodgings,  and  a  "  loafe  of  bread,  having  the 
picture  of  Saint  Paul  upon  it,"  to  take  away  with  him. 
What  a  strange  picture  of  mediaeval  life  and  half-pagan 
rites  !  yet  all  conducted  with  perfect  good  faith,  in  all 
seriousness.  It  is  just  one  of  the  great  charms  of  know- 
ing London  and  its  traditions,  that  one  is  able  to  clear 
away  in  imagination  the  growth  of  centuries,  and  throw 
back  one's  mind  to  the  past — to  stand  at  the  top  of 
Ludgate  Hill  and  to  remove  Wren's  building  and  to 
see  the  Gothic  pinnacles ;  to  blot  out  the  garden  and 
fountain  and  modern  seats,  and  see  Paul's  Cross ;  on 
the  left  to  see  the  arches  of  the  cloisters,  and  on  the 
right  the  high  wall  and  timbered  houses ;  then  to  open 


254     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

the  western  door  and  see  this  strange  procession  issue 
forth,  with  the  antlers  borne  aloft,  and  hear  the  bugle- 
blast  and  answering  notes. 

Surely  no  place  can  be  more  crowded  with  memories 
than  busy,  *'  roaring  London,"  and  nowhere  are  the 
past  and  present  so  unexpectedly  brought  together. 
The  City  is  full  of  surprises  to  those  who  have  leisure 
to  wander  among  its  narrow,  crowded  streets.  The 
quiet  little  graveyards  afford  many  of  these  telling 
contrasts.  Suddenly,  in  the  busiest  thoroughfares,  where 
a  constant  stream  of  men  are  walking  by  every  week- 
day, come  these  quiet  little  back-waters.  In  many 
cases  the  churches  themselves  have  vanished,  or  only 
remain  in  part.  St.  Mary's  Staining  is  one  of  these, 
so  hidden  away  that  one  might  walk  along  Fenchurch 
Street  hundreds  of  times  and  never  find  it.  The 
approach  is  by  a  very  narrow  alley,  at  the  end  of 
which  is  this  quiet  little  graveyard,  where,  among 
other  worthies,  reposes  Sir  Arthur  Savage,  knighted 
at  Cadiz  in  1596.  The  church,  all  except  the  tower, 
was  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  and  never  rebuilt. 
The  picturesque  old  tower  stands  in  the  centre  of 
this  little  plot,  which  now  forms  the  garden  of  the 
Clothworkers'  Company,  whose  hall  opens  on  to  one 
side  of  it. 

Another  church  which  perished  in  the  Fire  and  was 
never  rebuilt  is  St.  Olave's,  Hart  Street,  but  its  church- 
yard remains,  and  a  few  large  tombs  stand  in  a  small 
garden  with  seats,  where  at  all  times  of  the  year  some 
weary  wayfarers  are  resting. 

Another  such  graveyard  where  the  burnt  church 
was  not  restored  is  at  the  corner  of  Wood  Street  and 
Cheapside.       The    old    tree    inside    the    closed    railings 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  255 

may  have  inspired  the  lark  to  carol  so  joyously  as  to 
call  up  the  "vision  of  poor  Susan." 

St.  Botolph's,  Aldersgate,  has  one  of  the  largest 
churchyards  in  the  City,  but  it  really  consists  of  four 
pieces  of  land  thrown  into  one  in  1892,  by  a  scheme 
under  the  London  Parochial  Charities,  which  contri- 
buted part  of  the  purchase-money  of  some  of  the 
land,  and  gives  £1^^  a  year  for  the  upkeep — ;^ioo 
being  paid  to  them  by  the  General  Post  Office,  which 
has  the  right  of  light  over  the  whole  space.  One- 
half  of  the  churchyard  is  St.  Botolph's,  and  the  rest 
is  made  up  of  the  burial-grounds  of  St.  Leonard, 
Foster  Lane,  and  Christ  Church,  Newgate  Street, 
and  a  strip  of  land  which  might  have  been  built 
on,  but  which,  under  the  revised  scheme  in  1900, 
became  permanently  part  of  this  open  space.  The 
garden  is  carefully  laid  out  ;  there  are  nice  plane  trees 
and  a  little  fountain,  regular  paths  and  numerous  seats. 
A  sheltered  gallery  runs  along  one  side,  and  in  it 
are  tablets  to  commemorate  deeds  of  heroism  in  humble 
life — Londoners  who  lost  their  lives  in  saving  the  lives 
of  others.  The  church  of  St.  Botolph  was  one  which 
escaped  the  Fire,  but  had  fallen  into  such  disrepair 
that  it  was  rebuilt,  by  Act  of  Parliament,  in  1754. 
The  Act  specially  stipulates  that  none  of  the  grave- 
stones were  to  be  removed,  but  where  some  of  them 
are,  now  that  it  is  a  trim  garden,  it  would  be  hard  to 
say.  Being  not  far  from  the  General  Post  Office,  this 
garden  is  so  much  used  by  its  officials  during  the  middle 
of  the  day,  it  has  earned  the  name  of  the  "  Postman's 
Park." 

Another  much-frequented  but  much  smaller  church- 
yard is  that  of  St.  Katharine  Coleman.      Suddenly,  in 


fl'l'' 


-—-^--'  -^=^^^.iig//iijh 


^=m 


Sun-dial,  St.  Botolph's 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  257 

a  corner  of  crowded  Fenchurch  Street,  comes  this 
retired  shade.  The  church,  with  its  old  high  pews, 
and  tiny  graveyard,  devoid  of  monuments,  is  a  peaceful 
oasis.  These  surprises  in  the  densest  parts  of  the 
City  are  very  refreshing,  and  they  are  too  numerous 
to  mention  each  individually.  Most  of  them  now  are 
neatly  kept,  though  some  look  dreary  enough.  None 
of  them  recall  the  neglect  of  half  a  century  ago. 
St.  Olave's,  Hart  Street,  in  Seething  Lane,  is  perhaps 
among  the  most  gloomy.  It  is  the  church  Pepys 
speaks  of  so  often  as  "  our  owne  church,"  and  was 
one  of  the  churches  that  escaped  the  Fire.  The  arch- 
way with  the  skulls  over  it,  leads  from  Seething  Lane 
to  the  dismal-looking  churchyard.  Nothing  is  done 
to  alter  or  brighten  this  place  of  many  memories. 
One  shudders  to  think  of  what  it  must  have  been  like 
when  Pepys  crossed  it  for  the  first  time  after  the 
Great  Plague,  when  he  went  to  the  memorial  service 
for  King  Charles  I.,  on  30th  January  1666.  No 
wonder  he  says  it  *'  frighted  me  indeed  to  go  through 
the  church  more  than  I  thought  it  could  have  done, 
to  see  so  many  graves  lie  so  high  upon  the  church- 
yard, where  people  have  been  buried  of  the  Plague. 
I  was  much  troubled  about  it,  and  do  not  think  to 
go  through  it  again  a  good  while."  The  parish 
registers  show  that  no  less  than  326  were  interred  in  this 
very  small  place,  during  the  previous  six  months,  so 
Pepys'  feelings  were  well  justified.  The  old  church 
has  a  special  interest  to  lovers  of  gardens,  as  in  it  is 
the  tomb  of  William  Turner,  the  author  of  the  first 
English  Herbal. 

In    more    than    one    City  churchyard    a    portion    of 
the    old    wall    makes    its    appearance.     There    is    St. 

R 


258     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Alphage,  London  Wall,  and  Allhallows-in-the-Wall, 
where  the  little  gardens  by  the  wall  have  been  formed 
with  a  view  to  preserving  it.  The  most  picturesque 
is  St.  Giles's,  Cripplegate,  where  Milton  is, buried.  The 
graveyard  is  large,  and  the  ground  rises  above  the 
footpath,  which  was  made  across  it  some  thirty  years 
ago,  to  a  bastion  of  the  wall,  of  rough  stones  and 
flint,  which  is  in  its  old  state,  although  part  of  the 
wall  was  rebuilt  in  1803.  There  has  been  no  attempt 
here  to  make  it  a  resting-place  for  the  living,  although 
it  is  used  as  a  thoroughfare. 

Few  people  who  have  not  entered  the  Bank  of  Eng- 
land would  suspect  it  of  enclosing  an  extremely  pretty 
garden.  There  the  inner  courtyard  possesses  tail  lime 
trees,  gay  rhododendrons,  and  a  cool  splashing  fountain, 
with  ferns  and  iris  glistening  in  the  spray.  It  is  quite 
one  of  the  most  delightfully  fresh  and  peaceful  corners 
on  a  hot  summer's  day,  and  carries  one  in  imagination  to 
Italy.  Yet  this  is  but  another  of  the  many  old  City 
churchyards.  The  parish  of  St.  Christopher-le-Stocks 
was  absorbed,  with  five  other  parishes,  into  St.  Margaret's, 
Lothbury,  in  178 1.  Some  of  the  tombs,  and  pictures  of 
Moses  and  Aaron,  were  removed  from  it,  and  are  still 
to  be  seen  in  St.  Margaret's,  which  is  crowded  with 
monuments  from  all  six  churches.  The  Bank  was 
already  in  possession  of  most  of  the  land  within  the 
parish,  and  by  the  Act  of  Parliament  of  1781,  the  church 
and  churchyard  became  part  of  the  Bank  premises,  which 
cover  nearly  three  acres.  The  church  site  was  built 
over,  but  the  graveyard  became  the  garden.  This 
enclosure  at  first  was  a  simple  grass  plot,  as  shown  in 
an  engraving  dated  1790.  The  lime  trees  may  have 
been   planted   soon  after,  as  they  appear  as  large  trees 


GARDENS 

Al!hi!low<?-in-th?- 
thc  wa 

'      ^       lost     pjCtUi 

:      I :     J 


across  it  so 
•n  of  the   wall,  of  r. 
i  in    its   old   state,  alt"^  pan 

.-     -dilt  in   iSm.     There  i  _-     .  m  no  ati      ^. 
)  make  it  a  rt-  for  the  living,  although 

ased  as  a  thor 
I  '       '  4- 

u 

Q 

> 
O 

CQ  of  the   mslny  old  City 

W  ds.       The  parish  ot  St.   Chr'  ie-Stocks 

5  V  bed,  with  five  other  parishes,  iniv.;  ..i.  i*iargaret's, 

L  ,  in  178 1.     Some  of  the  tombs,  and  pictures  of 

Moses  and  Aaron,  were  removed  from  it,  and  are  still 
to  be  se:  Margaret's,  which  is  crowded  wi* 

t\  11    six    churches.      The    P     '- 

T!  .    of  most   of  the    latvi 

Parliament  of 
»ccame  part  of  the  Ban 
The    c' 
„    Decamr 
simple 

been  '  >ii   alter,  »■ 


BURIAL-GROUNDS  259 

sixty  years  later,  and  are  spoken  of  in  1855  as  two  of 
the  finest  lime  trees  in  London.  The  fountain  was  put 
up  in  1852  by  Mr.  Thomas  Hankey,  then  the  governor. 
The  water  for  it  came  from  the  tanks  belonging  to  the 
Bank,  supplied  by  an  artesian  well  330  feet  deep,  said  to 
be  very  pure,  and  free  from  lime.  Perhaps  that  is  why 
the  rhododendrons  look  so  flourishing.  Most^  of  the 
Bank,  as  is  well  known,  was  the  work  of  the  architect  Sir 
John  Soane,  but  some  of  the  portions  built  by  Sir  Robert 
Taylor,  before  his  death  in  1788,  when  Soane  was  ap- 
pointed to  succeed  him,  are  to  be  seen  in  the  garden 
court.  It  is  said  that  the  last  person  buried  there 
was  a  Bank  clerk  named  Jenkins,  who  was  7^  feet 
in  height.  He  was  allowed  to  rest  there,  as  he  feared 
he   might    be    disinterred    on    account    of    his    gigantic 

proportions.  ,   ^ 

Very  different  is  the  churchyard  of  St.  Martin  s,  on 
Ludgate  Hill.  It  belongs  to  Stationers'  Hall,  and 
although  it  boasts  of  one  fine  plane  tree,  is  an  untidy, 
grimy,  dingy  little  square.  By  permission  of  all  the 
necessary  authorities,  the  coffins  (480  in  number)  were 
removed  and  reverently  buried  in  Brookwood  Cemetery 
in  1893,  a  careful  register  of  all  the  names  and  dates, 
that  could  be  deciphered,  being  kept.  This  having 
been  done,  the  earth  was  merely  left  in  an  irregular 
heap  round  the  tree,  and  no  attempt  has  been  made 
to  improve  in  any  way  the  forsaken  appearance  of  the 

^  This  sketch  does  not  aim  at  being  a  guide-book, 
and  it  would  only  be  tedious  to  enumerate  the  many 
churchyards,  without  as  well  as  within  the  City,  which 
of  late  years  have  been  made  worthy  "  gardens  of  sleep." 
St     Luke's,    Old   Street;    St.    Leonard's,   Shoreditch ; 


26o     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

St.  Anne's,  Soho ;  St.  Sepulchre,  Holborn,  and  many 
others  in  every  part  of  the  town,  from  being  dreary 
and  untidy,  have  become  orderly  and  well  kept ;  and  in- 
stead of  being  unwholesome  and  unsightly,  have  become 
attractive  harbours  of  refuge  in  the  sea  of  streets  and 
houses. 


CHAPTER   XI 

INNS  OF  COURT 

Siveete  Themmes  !  runne  softly,  till  I  end  my  Song. 
At  length  they  all  to  mery  London  came^ 

There  tvhen  they  came,  nvhereas  those  hr'tckly  toivers 
The  which  on  Themmes  hrode  aged  hache  doe  ryde 
Where  now  the  studious  Lawyers  have  their  bowers. 
There  whylome  wont  the  Templer  Knights  to  byde. 
Till  they  decayed  through  pride  : 

Sweete  Themmes  !   runne  softly,  till  I  end  my  Song. 

— Spenser  :   "  Prothalamion,  or  a  Spousall  Verse." 


HERE  are  no  more  peaceful  gardens 
in  all  London  than  those  among 
the  venerable  buildings  devoted  to 
the  study  of  the  law.  There  is 
a  sense  of  dignity  and  repose,  the 
mom.ent  one  has  entered  from  the 
noisy  thoroughfares  which  sur- 
round these  quiet  courts.  They 
may  be  dark,  dull,  and  dingy,  as  seen  by  a  Dickens,  and 
sombre  and  serious,  to  those  whose  business  lies  there ; 
but  to  the  ordinary  Londoner,  who  loves  the  old  world 
of  the  City,  and  the  links  that  bind  the  present  with  the 
past,  there  are  no  more  reposeful  places  than  these 
gardens.     The  courts  and  buildings  seem  peopled  with 

261 


262     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

those  who  have  worked  and  lived  there.  If  stones  could 
speak,  what  tales  some  of  these  could  tell ! 

The  best-known,  perhaps,  of  the  gardens  are  those 
belonging  to  the  Inner  and  Middle  Temple,  as  their 
green  lawns  are  visible  from  the  Embankment.  They 
add  greatly  to  the  charm  of  one  of  London's  most 
beautiful  roadways,  now,  alas  !  desecrated  by  the  rush  of 
electric  trams,  and  its  fine  young  trees  sacrificed  to  make 
yet  more  rapid  the  stream  of  beings  hourly  passing 
between  South  London  and  the  City.  The  modern 
whirl  of  business  life  can  leave  nothing  untouched  in 
this  age  of  bustle,  money-making,  ceaseless  toil,  and  care. 
Even  pleasures  have  to  be  provided  by  united  effort,  and 
partake  of  noise  and  hurry.  Thought  and  contempla- 
tion are  hardly  counted  among  the  pleasures  of  life  ;  yet 
to  those  who  value  them,  even  to  look  through  the 
iron  railings  on  the  smooth  turf  brings  a  sense  of  relief. 
Even  to  those  who  scarcely  seem  to  feel  it,  the  very 
existence  of  these  haunts  of  comparative  peace,  which 
flash  on  their  vision  as  they  hurry  by,  leaves  something, 
a  subtle  influence,  a  faint  impression  on  the  brain.  It 
must  make  a  difference  to  a  child  who  knows  nothing 
beyond  the  noisy  streets  and  alleys  in  which  its  lot  is 
cast,  to  hear  the  rooks  caw  and  the  birds  sing  in  the 
quiet  gardens  of  Gray's  Inn.  It  must  come  as  a  welcome 
relief,  even  though  unperceived  and  unappreciated,  from 
the  din  and  clatter  in  which  most  of  its  days  are  passed. 
One  cannot  be  too  grateful  that  it  has  not  been  thought 
necessary  to  change  and  modernise  "  our  English  juridical 
university." 

Although  the  four  great  Inns  of  Court  are  untouched, 
the  lesser  Inns  have  vanished  or  are  vanishing.  Clement's 
Inn  has  gone.     The  garden  there  was  small,  but  had  a 


INNS    OF   COURT  263 

special  feature  of  its  own — a  sun-dial  upheld  by  the  kneel- 
ing figure  of  a  blackamoor.  This  is  now  preserved  in  the 
Temple  Garden,  where  it  appeared  soon  after  Clement's 
Inn  was  disestablished  in  1884.  Clement's  Inn,  which 
appertained  to  the  Inner  Temple,  was  so  named  from  the 
Church  of  St.  Clement  Danes  and  St.  Clement's  Well, 
where  "  the  City  Youth  on  Festival  Days  used  to  enter- 
tain themselves  with  a  variety  of  Diversions."  The  sun- 
dial is  said  to  have  been  presented  to  the  Inn  by  a  Holies, 
Lord  Clare,  and  some  writers  state  that  it  was  brought 
from  Italy.  It  was,  however,  more  probably  made  in 
London  by  John  Van  Nost,  a  Dutch  sculptor,  who  came 
to  England  in  William  III.'s  time,  and  established  him- 
self in  Piccadilly.  When  he  died  in  171 1  the  business 
was  continued  by  John  Cheere,  brother  of  Sir  Henry 
Cheere,  who  executed  various  monuments  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  Similar  work  is  known  to  have  issued  from  this 
studio.  At  Clifford's  Inn,  which  was  also  attached  to  the 
Inner  Temple,  there  is  still  a  vestige  of  the  garden,  but  it 
looks  a  miserable  doomed  wreck,  a  few  black  trees  rising 
among  heaps  of  earth  and  rubbish.  It  was  described  in 
1756  as  "  an  airy  place,  and  neatly  kept ;  the  garden  being 
inclosed  with  a  pallisado  Pale,  and  adorned  with  Rows 
of  Lime  trees,  set  round  the  gravel  Plats  and  gravel 
walks."  Its  present  forlorn  appearance  is  certainly  not 
suggestive  of  its  past  glories.  Barnard's  Inn  has  been 
converted  into  a  school  by  the  Mercers'  Company  ;  it 
also  has  its  court  and  trees  on  a  very  small  scale.  Staples 
Inn,  so  familiar  from  the  timbered,  gabled  front  it  pre- 
sents to  Holborn,  carefully  preserved  by  the  Pruden- 
tial Assurance  Company,  its  present  owners,  still  has  its 
quiet  little  quadrangle  of  green  at  the  back.  It  was  of 
that  Dickens  wrote  such  an  inimitable  description.     "  It 


264     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

is  one  of  those  nooks,  the  turning  into  which  out  of  the 
clashing  streets  imparts  to  the  relieved  pedestrian  the 
sensation  of  having  put  cotton  in  his  ears  and  velvet  soles 
on  his  boots."  Furnival's,  Thavies',  and  all  the  other 
Inns  famous  in  olden  days,  have  disappeared,  and  their 
quiet  little  gardens  with  them. 

The  Temple  Gardens  are  larger  now  than  in  the 
earlier  days  of  their  history,  as  then  there  was  nothing 
to  keep  the  Thames  within  its  channel  at  high  tide. 
The  landing  steps  from  the  river  were  approached  by 
a  causeway  of  arches  across  the  muddy  banks.  It  was 
not  until  1528  that  a  protecting  wall  was  built,  and  a 
pathway  ran  outside  the  wall  between  it  and  the  river. 
Gardens  must  have  existed  on  this  site  from  a  very 
early  date.  When  the  Templars  moved  there  from 
Holborn  and  built  the  church  in  11 85,  it  was  all  open 
country  round,  with  a  few  great  houses  and  conventual 
buildings  standing  in  their  own  orchards  and  gardens. 
After  the  suppression  of  the  Order,  it  was  in  the  hands 
of  Aimer  de  Valence,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  in  1324 
the  land  was  given  to  the  Knights  of  St.  John.  As 
they  had  their  own  buildings  and  church  not  far  off, 
they  granted  it  "  to  the  Students  of  the  Common  Lawes 
of  England  :  in  whose  possession  the  same  hath  sithence 
remained."  All  the  consecrated  land,  and  all  within  the 
City,  was  included  in  the  grant  to  the  Knights  of  St. 
John  :  besides  this  there  was  some  land  outside  the  City, 
or  the  Outer  Temple,  part  of  which  remained  in  secular 
hands,  and  in  later  times  was  covered  by  Essex  House, 
with  its  famous  gardens.  The  section  belonging  to  the 
Law  Societies,  beyond  the  City,  is  spoken  of  in  early 
records  as  the  Outer  Garden,  and  from  time  to  time 
buildings  were    erected    on    it — at    first  under    protest, 


INNS   OF    COURT  265 

as  in  1565  there  was  an  order  "for  the  plucking  down 
of  a  study  newly  erected,"  and  again  in  1567,  "the 
nuisance  made  by  Woodye,  by  building  his  house  in 
the  Outer  Garden,  shall  be  abated  and  plucked  down, 
or  as  much  thereof  as  is  upon  Temple  ground."  All 
this  garden  has  long  ago  been  completely  built  over, 
and  the  large  spaces  now  forming  the  Temple  Gardens 
are  those  anciently  known  as  the  "  Great  Garden," 
belonging  to  the  Inner  Temple  and  the  Middle  Temple 
Garden.  The  Outer  Temple  (never  another  Inn)  was 
merely  the  ground   outside  the  limits  of  the  City. 

The  long  green  slopes  down  to  the  Embankment, 
are  much  larger  than  the  older  gardens,  as  the  wall 
which  was  built  in  1528  to  keep  out  the  river,  cut 
across  from  where  No.  10  King's  Bench  Walk  now 
stands.  The  wall  must  have  been  a  vast  improvement, 
and  was  greatly  appreciated.  In  1534  a  vote  of  thanks 
was  passed  by  the  "  parliament "  of  the  Inner  Temple 
to  the  late  Treasurer,  John  Parkynton,  who  had  "  takyn 
many  and  sundrie  payns  in  the  buylding  of  the  walle 
betwene  the  Thamez  and  the  garden,"  for  which 
*'  greate  dyligens  "  they  gave  unto  him  "  hartey  thankes." 
And,  indeed,  the  garden  must  sorely  have  needed  this 
protection.  It  is  difficult  to  picture  the  Temple  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  and  the  little  gardens  must 
have  been  as  bewildering  as  the  present  courts  and 
buildings.  In  the  records  there  are  references  to  various 
gardens,  no  doubt  small  enclosures  like  the  present 
courts,  besides  the  Great  Garden  and  the  kitchen- 
garden.  There  was  the  nut  garden,  perhaps  adorned 
with  nut  trees,  as  Fig-tree  Court  probably  was  with 
figs.  There  is  more  than  one  record  of  payments  for 
attending    to    the    fig-tree    or    painting   rails    round    it. 


266     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

In  1 6 lo,  just  at  the  time  James  I.  brought  them  into 
notice,  a  mulberry  was  "set  in  Fairfield's  Court."  In 
1605  seats  were  set  "  about  the  trees  in  Hare's  Court"; 
thus  all  the  courts  were  more  or  less  little  gardens. 
In  1 5 10  a  chamber  is  assigned  to  some  one  "in  the 
garden  called  le  Olyvaunte."  This  was  probably  the 
Elephant,  from  a  sign  carved  or  painted  to  distinguish 
a  particular  house  facing  it.  There  was  similarly  "  le 
Talbott,"  probably  from  a  greyhound  sign,  in  another 
court.  The  houses  facing  the  Great  Garden  apparently 
had  steps  descending  into  it  from  the  chief  rooms, 
and  it  was  a  special  privilege  to  have  your  staircase 
opening  on  to  it.  Thus,  "May  1573,  Mr.  Wyott  and 
Mr.  Hall,  licensed  to  have  '  a  steeyrs '  (stairs)  from 
their  chamber  into  the  garden."  The  Great  Garden 
was  constantly  being  encroached  on  as  new  chambers 
were  built.  Entries  in  the  records  with  regard  to  per- 
mission to  build  into  the  garden  often  occur ;  for 
instance — 

"  1 58 1.  Thomas  Compton  ...  to  build  .  .  .  within 
the  compass  of  the  garden  or  little  Court  .  .  .  from  the 
south  corner  of  the  brick  wall  of  the  said  garden  .  .  . 
57  feet  .  .  .  and  from  the  said  wall  into  the  garden 
22   feet." 

On  one  occasion  a  license  to  build  was  exceeded,  and 
the  offence  further  aggravated  by  cutting  down  "  divers 
timber  trees."  The  offender  was  at  first  put  out  of 
commons,  and  fined  ^^20,  which  was  afterwards  mitigated 
to  £^,  with  the  addition  of  a  most  wise  proviso,  that 
"he  shall  plant  double  the  number  of  trees  he  caused 
to  be  cut  down."  Would  that  the  fault  of  felling 
timber  always  met  with  the  same  punishment ! 

When  houses  were   put   on  the  site  of  the   present 


INNS    OF   COURT  267 

Paper  Buildings  in  16 10,  the  Great  Garden  was  cut  in 
two,  and  the  eastern  portion  went  to  form  the  broad 
stretch  with  its  trees  known  as  King's  Bench  Walk. 
Elm  trees  were  planted,  and  the  walks  and  seats  under 
them  repaired  from  time  to  time,  and  kept  in  good 
order.  The  part  to  the  west  was  carefully  tended,  and 
became  from  that  year  the  chief  garden.  In  James  I.'s 
reign,  that  age  of  gardening,  when  every  house  of  any 
pretensions  was  having  its  garden  enlarged,  and  Bacon 
was  laying  out  the  grounds  of  Gray's  Inn,  the  Temple 
was  not  behind-hand.  The  accounts  show  constant 
repairs  and  additions  and  buying  of  trees.  The  items 
for  painting  posts  and  rails  are  very  frequent.  Pro- 
bably they  do  not  always  refer  to  outer  palings,  but  it 
may  be  that  the  Tudor  fashion  of  railing  round  the 
beds,  with  a  low  trellis  and  posts  at  the  angles,  still 
prevailed.  One  of  the  largest  items  of  the  expenses 
was  for  making  "the  pound"  in  161 8.  This,  it  is 
said,  was  a  pond,  but  no  record  of  digging  it  out,  or 
filling  it  with  water  occurs,  while  all  the  payments 
in  connection  with  it  went  to  painters  or  carpenters, 
and  therefore  it  was  more  probably  a  kind  of  garden- 
house,  much  in  favour  at  that  time,  made  by  the  wall, 
to  command  a  view  over  the  river.  The  chief  items 
with  regard  to  it  are  : — 

"  161  8.  To  John  Fielde,  the  carpenter,  for  making 
'  the  pound  '  in  the  garden,  £19.'^ 

"  To  Bowden,  the  painter,  for  stopping  and  '  refresh- 
ing '  the  rails  in  the  '  wakes  '  (walks),  the  posts,  seats 
and  balusters  belonging  to  the  same,  and  for  stopping 
and  finishing  the  '  pound'  by  the  waterside,  £g,  los." 

Again  in  1639  the  entry  certainly  implies  some  kind 
of  summer-house  and  not  "  a  pond  "  :  "  Edward  Simmes, 


268     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

carpenter,  for  repairing  '  the  pound  '  and  other  seats  in 
the  garden  and  walks,  &c,,  ;^I5,  8s."  There  must  have 
been  another  summer-house  at  the  same  time,  unless  the 
sums  paid  to  a  plasterer  "  for  work  done  about  the 
summer-house  in  the  garden,"  in  1630,  refers  to  the 
same   "  pound." 

A  great  deal  seems  to  have  been  done  to  the  Garden 
during  the  first  few  years  of  the  Commonwealth,  and 
large  sums  were  expended  in  procuring  new  gravel  and 
turf:  "392  loads  of  gravel  at  2s.  6d.  the  load"  is  one 
entry.  But  the  chief  work  was  the  re-turfing.  An 
arrangement  was  made,  by  payment  of  various  small 
sums  to  the  poor  of  Greenwich,  to  cut  3000  turfs  on 
Blackheath,  and  convey  them  in  lighters  to  the  Temple 
Stairs.  A  second  transaction  procured  them  2000 
more,  each  turf  being  a  foot  broad  and  a  yard  long. 
These  amounts  would  cover  a  third  of  an  acre  with 
turf.  The  head  gardeners  seem  to  have  been  par- 
ticularly unruly  people.  Although  they  remained  in 
office  many  years,  there  were  frequent  complaints.  On 
one  occasion  this  official  had  cut  down  trees,  another 
time  he  had  the  plague,  and  his  house  was  frequented 
by  rogues  and  beggars.  At  first  the  gardener's  house 
was  on  the  present  King's  Bench  Walk  side  of  the 
Garden,  near  the  river ;  later  on,  near  where  Harcourt 
Buildings  are  now.  In  1690  the  house,  then  in  Middle 
Temple  Lane,  was  turned  into  an  ale-house,  and  evi- 
dently none  of  the  quietest,  for  the  occupier  was  for- 
bidden to  sell  drink,  and  the  "  door  out  of  the  gardener's 
lodge  towards  the  water  gate  "  was  ordered  to  be  bricked 
up,  so  as  to  prevent  all  the  riffraff  from  the  river  riot- 
ing in  his  rooms.  Yet  the  post  descended  from  father 
to  son.     In  1687  Thomas  Elliott  succeeded  his  father. 


INNS    OF   COURT  269 

Seth  Elliott,  who  had  been  there  some  years,  and  when 
in  1708  Charles  Gardner  had  taken  the  second  Elliott's 
place,  his  daughter  Elizabeth's  name  occurs  as  a  recipient 
of  money,  and  Elliott  himself  received  a  pension  of  £10 
a-year,  although  he  was  the  culprit  of  the  riotous  ale- 
house. During  the  years  succeeding  the  Restoration,  the 
Garden  seems  to  have  been  little  touched.  The  kitchen- 
garden  would  still  be  maintained,  and  either  it  was 
farmed  by  the  gardener,  or  its  supplies  were  inadequate, 
as  on  fast-days  there  was  always  a  special  payment  to  the 
gardener  for  vegetables.  Such  items  as  the  following  are 
of  frequent  occurrence  :  "  Sallating  for  the  hall  in  grass 
week,  strewings  and  'bow  pots'  for  the  hall  in  Easter 
and  Trinity  terms." 

Though  the  French  fashions  in  gardening  of  Charles 
II.'s  reign  do  not  seem  to  have  affected  the  Temple  pre- 
cincts, yet  the  Dutch  influence  that  came  in  with 
William  and  Mary  made  itself  felt.  A  small  garden 
was  specially  set  apart  for  the  Benchers,  and  done  up 
entirely  in  the  prevailing  style.  A  piece  of  ground 
between  King's  Bench  Oflice  and  Serjeants'  Inn  was  made 
use  of  for  this.  It  had  been  let  to  the  Alienation  Office, 
but  after  the  Great  Fire  the  Temple  resumed  the  control 
of  it,  and  finally  did  it  up  and  replanted  it  for  the  use 
of  the  Benchers.  It  was  known  as  the  "  Benchers',"  the 
"  Little "  or  the  "  Privy "  Garden,  and  great  care, 
attention,  and  money  were  expended  on  it.  Turf, 
gravel,  and  plants  were  bought;  a  sun-dial  put  on 
the  wall  ;  orange  trees  set  out  in  tubs ;  and  a  fountain 
erected  in  the  middle.  This  fountain  must  have  been 
the  chief  feature  of  the  Garden,  and  from  the  immense 
amount  of  care  it  required  to  keep  it  in  order,  it  seems 
that  it  was  one  of  those  elaborate  "  waterworks,"   with- 


270     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

out  which  no  garden  was  then  complete.  Such  fountains 
were  made  with  secret  arrangements  for  turning  on  the 
water,  which  dropped  from  birds'  bills,  or  spurted  out  of 
dolphins  or  such-like,  with  an  unpleasant  suddenness 
which  gave  the  unwary  visitor  a  shower-bath.  Other 
fountains  played  tunes  or  set  curious  machinery  in 
motion,  or  otherwise  surprised  the  beholder.  From 
the  descriptions,  this  one  in  the  Benchers'  Garden 
doubtless  concealed  some  original  variation.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  lion's  face  with  a  copper  scallop  shell,  and 
a  copper  cherry-tree  with  branches,  and  perhaps  the 
water  dropped  from  the  leaves.  One  payment  in  1700 
occurs  for  '*  a  new  scallop  shell  to  the  fountain,  for  a 
cock  and  a  lion's  face  to  draw  the  water  out  of  the 
fountain,  and  for  keeping  the  fountain  in  repair,  /!i2." 
The  copper  cherry-tree  was  painted,  and  perhaps  the 
Pegasus — the  arms  of  the  Inner  Temple — figured  in  the 
strange  medley,  as  the  cost  of  painting  the  tree  and  "  gild- 
ing the  horse  "  arc  together  paid  to  the  man  "  Fowler," 
who  had  charge  of  the  fountain.  The  "  best  way  to 
bring  the  water "  had  to  be  carefully  considered  for 
these  "  waterworks  "  which  Fowler  was  designing  and 
carrying  out,  and  it  evidently  was  brought  up  to  the 
pitch  of  perfection  required  of  a  fountain  in  those  days. 
There  was  also  a  summer-house  with  a  paved  floor,  and 
an  alcove  with  seats.  Altogether,  even  without  the 
glories  of  the  strange  fountain,  the  little  enclosed  Dutch 
garden  must  have  been  an  attractive  place. 

While  the  Benchers'  Garden  was  being  made,  the 
Great  Garden  was  not  neglected.  Its  form  was  altered 
to  suit  the  prevailing  taste.  This  remodelling  must 
have  begun  in  the  winter  of  1703,  as  it  was  then  resolved 
that  *'  the  trees  in  the  Great  Garden  be  cut  down,  and 


hell,  and 


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INNS    OF   COURT  271 

the  Garden  to  be  put  in  the  same  model  as  the  gardener 
hath   proposed."     The  delightful  terrace,  which  is  still 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  features  in  the  Garden,  existed 
before  these  alterations  began,  but  the  sun-dial  which  still 
adorns  it  was  added  during  these  changes.     The  pay- 
ment for  it  was  made  to  Strong,  who  was  contractor  for 
St.   Paul's  under  Wren :  "  To  Edward  Strong,  for  the 
pedestal  for  the    dial  in  the  Great  Garden  steps,  &c., 
jf  25."     The  beautiful  gates  of  wrought  iron  were  put 
up  in  1730.     The  design  shows  the  arms  of  Gray's  Inn, 
as  well  as  the  winged   horse  of  the   Inner  Temple,   in 
compliment  to  the   other  learned  society,  its  close  ally. 
In  the  same  way  the  Pegasus  occurs  at  Gray's  Inn.     It 
was  probably  along  this  terrace  that  some  of  the  orange 
trees  in  pots  were  placed  during  the  summer.     The  pots 
in  which  these  oranges  and  other  "  greens  "  were  grown 
seem  to  have  been  specially  decorative.     It  was  a  serious 
offence  when  Allgood,  a  member  of  the  Inn,  broke  some, 
and  was  obliged  to  "  furnish  other  pots  of  like  fashion 
and  value,"  otherwise  he   would  "be  put  out  of  com- 
mons."    After  this  others  were  purchased,  as   the  pay- 
ment of  £S  was  made   "for  a  large  mould,  carved  in 
wood,  for    casting    of  earthen  pots  for  the    Garden "  ; 
and  in  other  years  further  similar  expenses  occur,  one  in 
1690  "  to  the  potter  for  a  large  pot  made  for  the  Garden, 
painted  in  oil,  ;^i,    5s."     Some    of   the    plants    grown 
would  stand  the  winter  in  the  open,  but  after  the  oranges 
made    their  appearance  a   shelter    had   to   be   provided. 
Green-houses  owed  their  origin  to  this  necessity,  and  as 
they  were  only  used  in  winter,  and  merely  sheltered  the 
large  pots  of  "  greens,"  these  green-houses  or  orangeries 
were  built  like  rooms,  and  used  as  summer-houses  during 
warm  months.     All  the  larger  gardens  had  their  green- 


2/2     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

houses,  but  the  smaller  proprietors  frequently  sent  their 
plants  away  to  a  nurseryman  to  be  housed  during  the 
winter.  Even  the  "  greens  "  at  Kensington  Palace  were 
kept  by  London  and  Wise,  until  the  new  orangery  was 
built.  The  Temple  orange  trees  were  first  sent  to  the 
house  of  Cadrow  at  Islington.  In  1704  the  green-house 
seems  to  have  been  made,  and  used  as  a  garden-house  in 
summer.  Such  items  in  the  accounts  as  "a  chimney- 
glass  and  sconces  for  the  green-house  "  show  that  it  was 
in  the  usual  solid  architectural  style  then  in  fashion. 
That  the  '*  panierman,"  an  officer,  one  of  whose  duties 
was  to  summon  members  to  meals  by  blowing  a  horn, 
was  appointed  to  take  charge  of  it  as  well  as  of  the  library, 
is  a  further  proof  that  it  bore  the  character  of  a  room, 
and  was  more  or  less  outside  the  gardener's  department. 
The  panierman  also  had  the  care  of  the  elaborate  foun- 
tain, after  it  had  been  supervised  for  some  years  by  the 
maker.  This  green-house  stood  at  the  end  of  the  terrace, 
which  still  runs  parallel  with  Crown  Office  Row,  and 
near  the  site  of  Harcourt  Buildings,  behind  the  gar- 
dener's house.  This  gardener's  house  was  pulled  down 
two  or  three  years  later  to  make  way  for  Harcourt 
Buildings,  which  was  joined  to  the  summer-house.  The 
first  or  ground  floor  opened  on  to  the  garden  below  the 
"  paved  walk "  or  terrace,  on  which  level  stood  the 
summer-house. 

The  most  fascinating  feature  of  a  garden  ought  to 
be  its  flowers,  and  of  these  also  some  particulars  can  be 
gleaned  from  the  accounts.  There  is  enough  to  show 
that  the  Temple  Garden  was  quite  up  to  date  in  its  horti- 
culture, and  that  it  followed  fashion  as  closely  in  its 
plants  as  in  its  design.  It  is  not  surprising  to  find  Dutch 
bulbs,  and  especially  tulips,  being  bought  when  such  a 


INNS   OF   COURT  273 

lover  of  those  flowers  as  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  was  a 
member.  He  was  one  of  those  who  devoted  much  time 
to  the  culture  of  that  flower,  when  the  tulip  mania  was 
at  its  height,  and  raised  new  varieties,  which  were  known 
by  his  name,  "the  agate  Hanmer."  In  1703  the  list  of 
bulbs  purchased  is  carefully  noted.  There  were  "  200 
'junquiles'  at  6s.  a  hundred;  for  200  tulips  at  5s.  a 
hundred  ;  for  100  yellow  Dutch  crocus,  for  50  Armatha- 
galum."  The  spelling  of  "junquiles"  is  much  more 
correct  than  our  modern  "jonquil,"  and  all  the  old 
writers  would  have  written  it  so.  Parkinson,  in  1629, 
describes  them  as  "  Narcissus  juncifolius  "  or  the  "  Jun- 
quiUa  or  Rush  DafFodill "  ;  but  "  Ornithogalum  "  was  too 
much  for  the  Temple  scribe.  The  "  Ornithogalum  "  or 
"  Starre  of  Bethlehem,"  and  probably  one  of  the  rarer 
varieties,  must  be  meant  by  "  Armathagalum."  The 
Arabian  variety  was  then  "  nursed  in  gardens,"  but  it 
should  be  "  housed  all  the  winter,  that  so  it  may  bee 
defended  from  the  frosts,"  wrote  Parkinson,  and  sadly 
admitted  that  the  two  roots  sent  to  him  "  out  of  Spain  " 
had  "  prospered  not  "  "  for  want  of  knowledge  "  of  this 
"  rule."  There  was  also  the  "  Starre  flower  of  i^thio- 
pia,"  which  "  was  gathered  by  some  Hollanders  on  the 
West  side  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  "  ;  and  this  is  more 
likely  to  have  been  the  variety  bought  for  the  Temple 
with  the  other  Dutch  bulbs.  Among  the  other  pur- 
chases were  various  shrubs,  on  which  the  topiary  art  was 
then  commonly  practised.  There  were  "15  yew  trees 
for  the  Great  Garden  in  pots,  ...  4  box  trees  for  the 
grass  plots,  .  .  .  12  striped  'fiUerayes'  " — this  latter  being 
variegated  phillyreas  (most  likely  angustifolia)^  which  were 
largely  used  for  cutting  into  quaint  shapes.  Another 
account  is  for  "28  standard  laurels,  4  *  perimic  '  (laurels), 

s 


274     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

6  junipers,  4  hollies,  and  2  perimic  box  trees."  These 
'*  perimetric  "  trees  had  already  gone  through  the  neces- 
sary clipping  and  training,  to  enable  them  to  take  their 
place  in  the  trim  Dutch  garden.  Another  year  flowering 
shrubs  are  got  for  the  Benchers'  Garden  :  "  2  messerius 
at  2s.,  and  2  lorrestines  at  2s."  The  Daphne  mezereum 
had  been  a  favourite  in  English  gardens  from  the  earliest 
times,  and  the  laurestinus  (^Viburnum  tinus)  came  from 
South  Europe  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Parkinson,  the 
most  attractive  of  all  the  old  gardening  authors,  has  a 
delightfully  true  description  of  the  "  Laurus  Tinus,"  with 
its  "  many  small  white  sweete-smelling  flowers  thrusting 
together,  .  .  .  the  edges  whereof  have  a  shew  of  a  wash 
purple  or  light  blush  in  them  ;  which  for  the  most  part 
fall  away  without  bearing  any  perfect  ripe  fruit  in  our 
countrey :  yet  sometimes  it  hath  small  black  berries,  as  if 
they  were  good,  but  are  not  "  !  Fruit-trees  were  also  to 
be  found — peaches,  "  nectrons,"  cherries,  and  plums, 
besides  figs  and  mulberries.  That  the  walls  were 
covered  with  climbing  roses  and  jessamine  is  certain, 
from  the  oft-recurring  cost  of  nailing  them  up.  "  Nails 
and  list  for  the  jessamy  wall,"  and  the  needful  bits  of 
old  felt  required  to  fasten  them  up,  was  another  time 
supplied  by  "  hatt  parings  for  the  jessamines." 

Thus  it  is  easy,  bit  by  bit,  out  of  the  old  accounts, 
to  piece  together  the  Garden,  until  the  mind's  eye  can  see 
back  into  the  days  of  Queen  Anne,  and  take  an  imaginary 
walk  through  it  on  a  fine  spring  evening.  The  Bencher 
walks  out  of  the  large  window  of  the  "  green-house  "  on 
to  the  terrace,  where  the  sun-dial  points  the  hour :  the 
orange  trees,  glossy  and  fresh  from  their  winter  quarters, 
stand  in  stifle  array,  in  the  large  artistic  pots.  Down  the 
steps,  a  few  stifl   beds  are  bright  with  Dutch  bulbs  in 


INNS    OF   COURT  275 

flower.  The  turf,  well  rolled  (for  a  new  stone  roller  has 
just  been  purchased),  stretches  down  to  the  river  between 
straight  lines  of  quaintly  cut  box,  yews,  and  hollies. 
He  sees  Surrey  hills  clear  in  the  early  evening  light,  and 
the  barges  sail  by,  and  boats  pass  up  and  down  the  river. 
He  may  linger  on  one  of  the  seats  in  the  garden-house 
overlooking  the  river,  or  wander  back  under  the  stately 
elms  of  King's  Bench  Walk,  to  rest  awhile  in  the  Privy 
Garden,  where  the  air  is  scented  with  mezereum,  and 
cooled  by  the  drops  that  fall  from  the  metal  leaves 
hanging  over  the  basin  of  the  fountain. 

The  Middle  Temple,  too,  had  its  Benchers'  Garden, 
and  part  of  it  survives  to  this  day  in  the  delightful 
Fountain  Court.  The  Benchers'  Garden  was  larger, 
covering  the  ground  where  Garden  Court  now  stands, 
up  to  the  wall  of  the  famous  gardens  of  Essex  House. 
A  garden  covered  the  space  where  the  library  has  been 
built,  and  the  terrace  and  steps  in  front  of  the  fountain 
reached  right  across  to  the  Essex  House  wall.  Below 
the  beautiful  old  hall  which  Queen  Elizabeth  opened  in 
person,  and  where  Shakespeare's  contemporaries  witnessed 
"  Twelfth  Night,"  lay  the  rest  of  the  Garden,  with  green 
lawns  and  shady  trees  down  the  water's  edge.  The 
fountain,  once  the  glory  of  the  Benchers'  private  garden, 
is  still  one  of  the  most  delightful  in  all  London.  Sir 
Christopher  Hatton,  whose  garden  of  Ely  Place— wrung 
by  Queen  Elizabeth  from  the  unwilling  Bishop — was 
not  far  off,  was  an  admirer  of  the  Middle  Temple 
fountain.  It  was  kept,  he  says,  "in  so  good  order  as 
always  to  force  its  stream  to  a  vast  and  almost  incredible 
altitude.  It  is  fenced  with  timber  palisades,  constitut- 
ing a  quadrangle,  wherein  grow  several  lofty  trees, 
and    without    are    walks    extending    on    every   side    of 


276     LONDON   PARKS    &   GARDENS 

the  quadrangle,  all    paved  with  Purbeck,  very  pleasant 
and  delightful,"     In  an  eighteenth-century  picture,  with 
groups  of  strollers  and  a  lady  passing  the  gay  company 
in   her   sedan  chair,  the  palings   are  superseded  by  fine 
iron  railings  enclosing  the  lofty  jet,  its  marble  basin,  and 
shady  trees.     The  pavement  ended  with  the  terrace  wall 
overlooking  the  garden  below,  and  the  Thames  covered 
at  high  tide  what  is  now  the  lower  part  of  the  lawn. 
The  Fountain  Court  has  inspired  many  a  thought  which 
has  found  expression  in  prose  and  verse,  but  no  picture 
is  more  vivid  or  well  known  than  the  figure  of  Ruth 
Pinch,  in  "  Martin  Chuzzlewit,"  waiting  for  her  brother 
"  with  the   best   little    laugh   upon   her   face   that  ever 
played  in  opposition  to  the  fountain,"  or  the  description 
at  the  end,  of  that  crowning  day  to  her  happiness,  when 
she  walks  there  with  John  Westlock,  and  "  Brilliantly 
the  Temple  Fountain  splashed  in  the  sun,  and  laughingly 
its  liquid  music  played,  and  merrily  the  idle  drops  of 
water   danced   and   danced,   and    peeping   out    in    sport 
among  the  trees,  plunged  lightly  down  to  hide  them- 
selves, as  little  Ruth  and   her  companion  came  towards 
it."      The    fountain    has    suflTered    some    modernising 
changes  since  Dickens  wrote  those  lines ;  but  in  spite  of 
them  there  is  still   music  in  its  sound,  which  calls  up 
dreams    of  other  ages   and    of  brighter  gardens    as   it 
tosses  its  spray  into  the  murky  air. 

"  Away  in  the  distance  is  heard  the  vast  sound 
From  the  streets  of  the  city  that  compass  it  round. 
Like  the  echo  of  mountains  or  ocean's  deep  call : 
Yet  that  fountain's  low  singing  is  heard  oyer  all." 

— Miss  Landon. 

Of  all  the  incidents  that  are  associated  with  particular 
places,  none  stands  out  more  vividly  than  the  scene  told 


i'ARKS    ci?   GAR; 

all   paved  with  Purbeck,  - 
In  an    '  th-century  pi* 


palings 
)sing  the  lofty  jet,  its  marble  basi?i 
•>..      The  pavement  ended  with  tV 
ng  the  garden  below,  and  the  Than;  i 

^j  .      tide  what  is  now  the  lower  part  of  .  ti. 

^        he  Fountain  Court  has  inspired  many  a  thought  which 
S     has  found  expression  in  prose  and  verse,  but  no  picture 

H^     is  more  vivid  or  wr*'   ' '^    -   -^c  figure  of  Ruth 

W     Pinch,  in  *'  Martin  '  -  for  her  brother 

Q     "with  the   bcsT  .ce  that  ever 


S     the  Temple  Fountain  splashed  in  t[ 

O     its  liiui-d  music   ol:  "ly  the  idle  dr 

U  '  - 

water  danced   and   utncva,    .;..;    ^teping   out    m    i^pon 

^  among  the  trees,  plunged  lightly  down  to  hide  them- 

^  selves,  as  little  Ruth  and  her  companion  came  towards 

^  it."      The    fountain    has    suffered    some    modernising 

O  changes  since  Dickens  wrote  those  lines;  but  in  spite  of 

*^  ■  ^.,Ti  there  is  still   music  in  its  sound,  which  call-: 

S  j}«i    of  other  ages   and   of  brighter  gardens 

H  '...             spray  into  the  murky  air. 

**  A*ay  in  the  distance  is  heard  the  vast  sound 
From  the  streets  of  the  city  that  compass  n  -■''■-■ 
Like  the  echo  of  mountains  or  ocean's  dc* 
Yet  that  fountain's  low  singing  is  heard  v 


Of  all  the  incidents  that  are  a5s 
places,  none  stands  out  more  ' 


INNS    OF   COURT  277 

by  Shakespeare,  of  the  first  beginning  to  the  Wars  of  the 
Roses  in  the  Temple  Garden. 

Richard  Plantagenet,  with  the  Earls  of  Somerset, 
Suffolk,  and  Warwick,  Vernon,  and  a  lawyer,  enter  the 
Temple  Garden  ("Henry  VI."  Pt.  I.  Act  2,  sc.  iv.). 

Suffolk.      Within  the  Temple  Hall  we  were  too  loud ; 
The  garden  here  is  more  convenient. 
Plantagenet.     Then  say  at  once  if  I  maintained  the  truth, 

Or  else  was  wrangling  Somerset  in  the  error  ? 

The  direct  answer  being  evaded,  Plantagenet  con- 
tinues— 

Since  you  are  tongue-tied  and  so  loath  to  speak. 
In  dumb  significants  proclaim  your  thoughts ; 
Let  him  that  is  a  true-born  gentleman. 
And  stands  upon  the  honour  of  his  birth, 
If  he  suppose  that  I  have  pleaded  truth. 
From  off  this  brier  pluck  a  white  rose  with  me. 
Somerset.      Let  him  that  is  no  coward  nor  no  flatterer, 
But  dare  maintain  the  party  of  the  truth. 
Pluck  a  red  rose  from  off  this  thorn  with  me. 

IVarwlci.      I  pluck  this  white  rose  with  Plantagenet. 
Suffolk.      I  pluck  this  red  rose  with  young  Somerset. 

Vernon.      1  pluck  this  pale  and  maiden  blossom  here, 
Giving  my  verdict  on  the  white  rose  side. 

Lanvyer  (to  Somerset)    .  .   .   The  argument  you  held  was 
wrong  in  you. 
In  sign  whereof  I  pluck  a  white  rose  too. 
Plan.     Now,  Somerset,  where  is  your  argument  ? 
Som.      Here,  in  my  scabbard,  meditating  that 

Shall  dye  your  white  rose  in  a  bloody  red. 

Plan.     Hath  not  thy  rose  a  canker,  Somerset  ? 
Som.     Hath  not  thy  rose  a  thorn,  Plantagenet  ? 


278     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

P/an.     Ay,  sharp  and  piercing  to  maintain  his  truth  ; 

Whiles  thy  consuming  canker  eats  his  falsehood. 
Som.     Well,  I'll  find  friends  to  wear  my  bleeding  roses, 

That  shall  maintain  what  I  have  said  is  true. 

Warwick.     And  here  I  prophesy  this  brawl  to-day, 

Grown  to  this  faction  in  the  Temple-garden, 
Shall  send  between  the  red  rose  and  the  white 
A  thousand  souls  to  death  and  deadly  night. 

With  such  a  tradition  the  Temple  Garden  should 
never  be  without  its  roses.  They  are  one  of  those 
friendly  plants  which  will  do  their  best  to  fight  against 
fog  and  smoke,  and  flower  boldly  for  two  or  three  years 
in  succession  :  so  a  supply  of  red  and  white,  and  the 
delightful  Rosa  mundi^  the  "  York  and  Lancaster," 
could  without  much  difficulty  be  seen  there  every 
summer.  Certainly  some  of  the  finest  roses  in  existence 
have  been  in  the  Temple  Gardens,  as  the  Flower  Shows, 
which  are  looked  forward  to  by  all  lovers  of  horticulture, 
have  for  many  years  been  permitted  to  take  place  in  these 
historic  grounds.  How  astonished  those  adherents  of 
the  red  or  white  roses  would  have  been  to  see  the  colours, 
shades,  and  forms  which  the  descendants  of  those  briars 
now  produce.  The  Plantagenet  Garden  would  not  con- 
tain many  varieties,  although  every  known  one  was 
cherished  in  every^garden,  as  roses  have  always  been  first 
favourites.  Besides  the  briars,  dog  roses,  and  sweet 
briars,  there  was  the  double  white  and  double  red,  a 
variety  of  Rosa  gallica.  Many  so-called  old-fashioned 
roses,  such  as  the  common  monthly  roses,  came  to  Eng- 
land very  much  later,  and  the  vast  number  of  gorgeous 
hybrids  are  absolutely  new.  Elizabethan  gardens  had  a 
fair  show  of  roses  with  centifolia,  including  moss  and 
Provence  roses,  and  York  and  Lancaster,  Rosa  lutea^  musk, 


INNS    OF   COURT  279 

damask,  and  cinnamon  roses  in  several  varieties ;  and  as 
the  old  records  show,  the  Temple  Garden  was  well  supplied 
with  roses.  All  these  probably  flourished  there  in  the 
days  of  Shakespeare,  and  would  readily  suggest  the  scene 
he  immortalised. 

Among  the  spirits  that  haunt  the  Temple  Garden, 
there  is  none  that  seems  to  cling  to  it  more  than  that  of 
Charles  Lamb.  It  should  be  a  pride  of  these  peaceful 
gardens  that  they  helped  to  mould  that  lovable  and 
unselfish  character.  A  schoolfellow,  who  describes  his 
ways  as  a  boy  at  Christ's  Hospital,  recalls  how  all  his 
young  days  were  spent  in  the  solemn  surrounding  of  the 
Temple,  and  how,  while  at  school,  "  On  every  half  holiday 
(and  there  were  two  in  the  week),  in  ten  minutes  he  was 
in  the  gardens,  on  the  terrace,  or  at  the  fountain  of  the 
Temple.  Here  was  his  home,  here  his  recreation ;  and 
the  influence  they  had  on  his  infant  mind  is  vividly 
shown  in  his  description  of  the  old  Benchers." 

"Shadows  we  arc  and  like  shadows  depart,"  suggests 
the  sun-dial  on  the  wall  of  Pump  Court,  but  shadows  of 
such  gentle  spirits  as  Charles  Lamb  leave  something 
behind,  and  those  "footprints  on  the  sands  of  time" 
are  nowhere  more  traceable  than  in  these  solemn 
precincts  of  law  with  their  quiet,  restful  gardens. 

The  attractions  of  the  Temple  are  so  great,  one  feels 
loth  to  cross  the  noisy  thoroughfare  and  plunge 
through  the  traffic  till  the  stately  old  gateway  out  of 
Chancery  Lane,  on  which  Ben  Jonson  is  said  to  have 
worked,  affx)rds  an  opening  towards  the  spacious  gardens 
of  Lincoln's  Inn. 

Lincoln's  Inn  Gardens  have  a  special  claim  to 
antiquity  as  they  are  partly  on  the  site  of  the  famous 
garden  of  the  Earl  of  Lincoln,  of  which  some  of  the 


28o     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

accounts  are  preserved  in  a  splendid  big  old  manor  roll 
now  at  the  Record  Office.  It  is  supposed  that  at  his 
death  in  131 1,  Henry  de  Lacy,  Earl  of  Lincoln, 
assigned  these  lands  to  the  "  Professors  of  the  Law  as  a 
residence."  Additions  were  made  later  from  the  ground 
belonging  to  the  Bishop  of  Chichester,  round  the  palace 
which  Ralph  Neville  had  built  in  1228.  Part  of  the 
site  was  the  "  coney  garth,"  which  belonged  to  one 
William  Cottcrcll,  and  hence  is  often  mentioned  as 
"  Cotterell's  Garden."  Garden  of  course  only  meant  a 
garth  or  yard,  and  though  the  name  now  signifies  an 
enclosure  for  plants,  in  early  times  other  enclosures 
were  common.  There  was  the  "  grass  yard  "  or  lawn, 
the  "  cook's  garth"  or  kitchen-garden,  and  "  coney 
garth "  where  rabbits  were  kept,  as  well  as  the  "  wyrt 
yard "  or  plant  yard,  the  "  ort  yard  "  or  orchard,  apple 
yard,  cherry  yard,  and  so  on.  The  coney  garth  was  not 
a  mere  name,  but  was  well  stocked  with  game,  and  even 
at  a  much  later  date,  from  Edward  IV.  to  Henry  VIII., 
there  were  various  ordinances  in  force  for  punishing  law 
students  who  hunted  rabbits  with  bows  and  arrows  or 
darts. 

In  the  first  year  of  Queen  Elizabeth  the  Garden  was 
separated  from  the  fields  by  a  clay  embankment,  and  a 
little  later  a  brick  wall  was  added,  with  a  gate  into  the 
fields,  which  is  probably  the  same  as  the  present  little 
gate  to  the  north  of  the  new  hall,  at  the  end  of  the 
border,  shown  in  the  illustration.  The  Garden  continued 
much  further  along  the  wall  then,  and  only  was  curtailed 
when  the  new  hall  and  library  were  built  in  1843. 
The  delightful  terrace  which  is  raised  against  the  wall 
overlooking  the  "fields"  was  made  in  1663.  On  June 
27th   of  that    year,    Pepys,   who    on    other    occasions 


**y"v-" 


LINCOLN'S  INN 


:he  "  Professor 
;iS  were  made  later  fro 
.^  :■,:  ....iiop  of  Chichester,  rou:;^  .  . 
Aph  Neville  had  built  in    1228.     Part  >. 
ite  was  the   *'  coney    garth,"   which    belonged  to   one 
William    Cottercll,    and    hence    is    often    mentioned   as 
**  Cotterell's  Garden."     «"■-•-''"  of  course  only  meant  a 
garth  or  yard,  and   th^  name   now  signifies   an 

enclosure    f  other   enclosures 

were 
the    ■ 
garth  "  ■ 


^    iiaLH>^^ 


at  a  much  later  date,  from  Edward  IV.  to  Henry  VIII., 
there  were  various  ordinances  in  force  for  punishing  law 
students  who  hunted  rabbits  with  bows  and  arrows  or 
darts. 

In  the  first  year  of  Queen  Elizabeth  the  Garden  was 
separated  from  the  fields  by  a  clay  embankment,  and  a 
little  later  a  brick  wall  was  added,  with  a  gate  into  the 
j^pi4^  '"hich  is  probably  the  same  as  the  pre?-*  -  '•"'- 
g  he  north   of  the  new  hall,  at  the  c; 

bord'  n  in  the  illustration.    The  Garden 

much  tuuher  along  the  wall  then,  and  only 
when    th'         -    hall    and    library  were   ^- 
The  del:.,  .erracc  which  is  raisc.^ 

overlooking  the  "fiWnji  E^VIJOOVIIJ 
27th   of  that    year,    Tepys,    who    on 


INNS    OF   COURT  281 

mentions  his  walks  there  with  his  wife,  went  to  see  the 
alterations.  "  So  to  Lincoln's  Inne,  and  there  walked 
up  and  down  to  sec  the  new  garden  which  they  arc 
making,  and  will  be  very  pretty."  The  outside  world 
seems  to  have  had  easy  access  to  the  gardens  of  all  the 
Inns  of  Court  in  those  days,  but  it  was  regarded  as  a 
special  privilege  granted  to  a  very  wide  circle,  and  a 
favour  not  accorded  to  the  public  at  large.  In  the 
Tatler  occur  such  passages  as,  "I  went  into  Lincoln's 
Inn  walks,  and  having  taken  a  round  or  two  I  sat  down 
according  to  the  allowed  familiarity  of  these  places." 
Again,  "  I  was  last  week  taking  a  solitary  walk  in  the 
garden  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  a  favour  that  is  indulged  me  by 
several  of  the  benchers  who  are  my  intimate  friends." 

They  were,  however,  so  much  frequented  by  all  the 
fashionable  world  of  London,  that  the  foreigner  arriving 
there  naturally  took  them  for  public  gardens.  Mr. 
Grosley,  who  came  to  London  in  1765,  thus  describes 
them  : — 

*'  Besides  St.  James's  Park,  the  Green  Park,  and  Hyde 
Park,  the  two  last  of  which  are  continuations  of  the  first, 
which,  like  the  Tuileries  at  Paris,  lie  at  the  extremity  of 
the  metropolis,  London  has  several  public  walks,  which 
are  much  more  agreeable  to  the  English,  as  they  are  less 
frequented  and  more  solitary  than  the  Park.  Such  are 
the  gardens  contained  within  the  compass  of  the  Temple, 
of  Gray's  Inn  and  Lincoln's  Inn.  They  consist  of  grass 
plots,  which  are  kept  in  excellent  order,  and  planted  with 
trees,  either  cut  regularly,  or  with  high  stocks :  some  of 
them  have  a  part  laid  out  for  culinary  uses.  The  grass 
plots  of  the  gardens  at  Lincoln's  Inn  are  adorned  with 
statues,  which,  taken  all  together,  form  a  scene  very 
pleasing  to  the  eye." 


282     LONDON   PARKS    &   GARDENS 

The  students  must  certainly  have  aimed  at  keeping 
their  gardens  from  the  vulgar  gaze,  and  showed  their 
displeasure  at  some  one  who  had  built  a  house  with 
windows  overlooking  the  Garden  in  1632  in  an  uproarious 
manner.  They  flung  brickbats  at  the  offending  window 
until  "  one  out  of  the  house  discharged  haile  shot  upon 
Mr.  Attornie's  Sonne's  face,  which  though  by  good  chance 
it  missed  his  eyes  yet  it  pitifully  mangled  his  visage." 

Old  maps  of  the  gardens  show  a  wall  dividing  the 
large  upper  garden  from  the  smaller,  but  by  1772  the 
partition  had  disappeared.  It  was  doubtless  unnecessary 
when  the  terrace  was  made  and  the  rabbits  done  away 
with. 

The  1658  map  with  the  wall  in  it  shows  the  upper 
garden  intersected  by  four  paths,  and  an  avenue  of  trees 
round  three  sides,  and  the  small  garden  with  a  single  row 
of  trees  round  it  divided  into  two  large  grass  plots. 
The  lovely  shady  avenue  below  the  terrace  in  the  large 
garden  has  still  a  great  charm,  and  although  not  so 
extensive  as  it  once  was,  the  great  green-sward  and  walks 
seem  very  spacious  in  these  days  of  crowding.  The 
terrace  overlooking  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  with  the  broad 
walk  and  border  of  suitable  old-fashioned  herbaceous 
plants,  has  great  attractions.  The  view  from  here  must 
have  improved  since  the  days  when  the  Fields  were  a 
wild-looking  place  of  evil  repute,  and  the  scene  of  bloody 
executions.  In  the  lonely  darkness  below  the  terrace  wall, 
deeds  of  violence  were  only  too  common. 

"Though  thou  are  tempted  by  the  linkman's  call, 
Yet  trust  him  not  along  the  lonely  wall. 
In  the  mid-way  he'll  quench  the  flaming  brand, 
And  share  the  booty  with  the  pilfering  band." 

—Gay. 


INNS    OF    COURT  283 

Certainly  when  one  is  sentimental  over  the  departed 
charms  of  Old  London,  it  would  be  an  excellent  antidote 
to  call  up  some  of  the  inconveniences  that  electric  light 
and  the  metropolitan  police  have  banished. 

There  is  more  character  about  the  gardens  of  Gray's 
Inn  than  either  the  Temple  or  Lincoln's  Inn.  They  have 
come  down  with  but  little  alteration  from  the  hands  of 
that  great  lover  of  gardens,  Bacon.  But  long  before  his 
time  gardens  existed.  The  land  on  which  Gray's  Inn 
stands  formed  part  of  a  prebend  of  St.  Paul's  of  the 
manor  of  Portpoole,  and  subsequently  belonged  to  the 
family  of  Grey  dc  Wilton,  and  in  the  fourteenth  century 
the  Inn  of  Court  was  established.  Between  its  grounds 
and  the  villages  of  Highgate  and  Hampstead  was  an 
unbroken  stretch  of  open  country.  There,  in  Mary's 
reign,  Henry  Lord  Berkeley  used  daily  to  hunt  "  in  Gray's 
Inne  fields  and  in  those  parts  towards  Islington  and  Hey- 
gate  with  his  hounds,"  and  in  his  company  were  "many 
gentlemen  of  the  Innes  of  Court  and  others  of  lower 
condition  .  .  .  and  150  servants  in  livery  that  daily 
attended  him  in  their  tawny  coates."  In  Bacon's  time 
it  must  still  have  been  as  open,  and  Theobald's  Road  a 
country  lane  with  hedgerows.  The  Garden  already 
boasted  of  fine  trees,  and  among  the  records  of  the 
Society  there  is  a  list  of  the  elms  in  1583  all  carefully  enu- 
merated, and  the  exact  places  they  were  growing  :  "  In 
the  grene  Courte  xi  Elmes  and  iii  Walnut  trees,"  and  so 
on.  Eighty-seven  elms,  besides  four  young  elms  and  one 
young  ash,  appear  on  the  list ;  so  the  Garden  was  well  fur- 
nished with  trees  even  before  Bacon  commenced  his  work. 
Gray's  Inn  was  the  most  popular  of  the  four  Inns  of  Court 
in  the  Elizabethan  period,  and  many  famous  men,  such 
as  Lord  Burghley,  belonged  to  it.     It  was  in   1597  that 


284     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Bacon  took  the  Garden  in  hand,  some  ten  years  after 
he  became  a  Bencher.  In  the  accounts  of  that  year 
jCj.  15s.  4d.  appears  "due  to  Mr.  Bacon  for  planting 
of  trees  in  the  walkes."  In  1598  it  was  resolved  to 
"  supply  more  yonge  elmc  trees  in  the  places  of  such  as 
are  decayed,  and  that  a  new  Rayle  and  quicksett  hedge 
be  sett  upon  the  upper  long  walke  at  the  good  discretion 
of  Mr.  Bacon,  and  Mr.  Wilbraham,  soe  that  the  charges 
thereof  doe  not  exceed  the  sum  of  seventy  pounds."  On 
29th  April  1600,  £60.  6s.  8d.  was  paid  to  "Mr.  Bacon 
for  money  disbursed  about  garnishing  of  the  walkes." 

Bacon's  own  ideas  of  what  a  garden  should  be 
are  so  delightfully  set  forth  in  his  essay  on  gardens, 
that  the  whole  as  it  left  his  hand  is  not  difficult  to 
imagine.  The  fair  alleys,  the  great  hedge,  were 
essentials,  and  the  green,  "  because  nothing  is  more 
pleasant  to  the  eye  than  green  grass  kept  finely  shorn." 
His  list  of  plants  which  bloom  in  all  the  months  of 
the  year  was  compiled  of  those  specially  suited  "  for 
the  Climate  of  London,"  so  no  doubt  some  would 
be  included  in  this  Garden  under  his  eye,  although 
they  do  not  appear  in  the  records.  He  wished  "  also 
in  the  very  middle  a  fair  mount,"  and  even  this  desire 
he  carried  out  in  Gray's  Inn.  In  a  description  of  the 
Garden  as  late  as  1761,  a  summer-house  which  Bacon 
put  up  in  1609  to  the  memory  of  his  friend  Jeremiah 
Bettenham  is  mentioned  as  only  recently  destroyed. 
"  Till  lately,"  it  says,  "  there  was  a  summer-house 
erected  by  the  great  Sir  Francis  Bacon  upon  a  small 
mount :  it  was  open  on  all  sides,  and  the  roof  supported 
by  slender  pillars.  A  few  years  ago  the  uninterrupted 
prospect  of  the  neighbouring  fields,  as  far  as  the  hills 
of  Highgatc  and  Hampstead,  was  obstructed  by  a  hand- 


INNS    OF    COURT  285 

some  row  of  houses  on  the  north  ;  since  which  the  above 
summer-house   has   been   levelled,   and    many   trees    cut 
down  to  lay  the  Garden  more  open."     The  view,  even 
then,  was  fairly  open,  as  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  in   1780, 
complains   of  the   cold,   as    there    was    "only    one    row 
of  houses"  between  him  and  Hampstead,  and  "a  north- 
west   wind    blows    full    against"    his    chambers.       This 
"  most    gallant    prospect     into    the     country,    and     its 
beautiful    walks"    were    the    great    attractions    of   these 
Gardens.       They  appear  to  have  been  one  of  the  most 
fashionable    walks,    especially    on    Sundays.     Pepys^  was 
frequently   there,  and    his    diary   records,  several  times, 
that    he    went    to    morning    church,    then    had    dmner, 
then    to    church    again,    and    after    went    for    a    walk 
in  Gray's    Inn.     That    he   met   there    "great   store    of 
gallants,"  or  "  saw  many  beauties,"  is  the  usual  comment 
after  a  visit.     On  one  occasion,  he  took  his  wife  there 
to    "observe   the   fashions   of   the    ladies,"    because    she 
was    "making    some    clothes."      The    walks    and    trees 
are  redolent  with  associations,  and  the  Gardens,  though 
curtailed,  have  much  the  same  appearance  as  of  yore. 
When   a   portion   of  the  ground   was   sacrificed   to   the 
new   buildings,   those   who    loved    the    Garden    deeply 
bewailed.    "Those  accursed  Verulam  Buildings,"  wrote 
Charles  Lamb,   recalling  his  early  walks  in  Gray's  Inn 
Gardens,   "had  not  encroached  upon  all  the  east  side 
of    them,     cutting    out    delicate    green    crankles,    and 
shouldering   away   one    of   two   stately   alcoves   of  the 
terrace.     The  survivor  stands  gaping   and    relationless, 
as  if  it  remembered   its   brother.     They   are   still    the 
best  gardens  of  any  of  the  Inns  of  Court— my  beloved 
Temple    not    forgotten  —  have    the    gravest    character, 
their  aspect  being  altogether  reserved  and  law-breathing. 


286     LONDON    PARKS    <^   GARDENS 

Bacon    has    left    the    impress    of    his    foot    upon    their 
gravel  walks." 

After  such  a  delightful  summary  of  their  charms 
it  seems  cruel  to  try  and  dispel  one  of  their  most 
treasured  traditions — namely,  that  Bacon  planted  the 
catalpa.  It  is  a  splendid  and  venerable  tree,  and 
there  is  no  wish  to  pull  it  from  its  proud  position  of 
the  first  catalpa  planted,  and  the  finest  in  existence 
in  this  country  ;  but  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  Bacon 
planted  it,  in  the  light  of  the  history  of  the  plant. 
There  is  no  mention  of  a  catalpa  in  any  of  the 
earlier  writers — Gerard  did  not  know  it,  and  it  is  not 
in  the  later  edition  of  his  work  by  Thomas  Johnson, 
in  1633,  °^  ^^  Parkinson's  "  Paradisus,"  in  1629,  or  in 
Evelyn's  "  Sylva,"  in  1664,  ^^^  published  after  Bacon's 
death. 

The  tree  was  first  described  by  Catesby  in  his 
"  Natural  History  of  Carolina,"  a  splendid  folio  which 
appeared  in  1731.  There  it  is  classed  as  Bignonia 
urucu  foliis^  or  Catalpa^  as  it  was  not  until  later  that 
Jussieu  separated  the  genus  Catalpa.  He  says  the 
tree  was  not  known  to  the  inhabitants  of  Carolina 
till  the  seeds  "  were  brought  there  from  the  remoter 
parts  of  the  country,"  "  and  though  the  inhabitants 
are  little  curious  in  gardening,  the  uncommon  beauty 
of  this  tree  induced  them  to  propagate  it,  and  it  is 
become  an  ornament  to  many  of  their  gardens,  and 
probably  will  be  the  same  to  ours  in  England,  it  being 
as  hardy  as  most  of  our  American  plants  :  many  of 
them,  now  at  Mr.  Bacon's,  at  Hoxton,  having  stood 
out  several  winters  without  any  protection,  except  the 
first  year."  Hoxton  was  then  a  place  famous  for  its 
nursery    gardens.       In    1767,    in    Catesby's    volume    on 


INNS   OF   COURT  287 

the  trees  of  North  America,  he  gives  the  same  story, 
and  adds,  "in  August  1748"  it  produced,  "at  Mr. 
Gray's,  such  numbers  of  blossoms,  that  the  leaves  were 
almost  hid  thereby."  This  Mr.  Gray  owned  the 
nurseries  in  Brompton,  famous  under  the  management 
of  London  and  Wise. 

In  Philip  Miller's  dictionary,  Catesby's  history  of 
the  plant  is  referred  to,  and  also  in  1808,  in  the 
Botanical  Magazine^  when  the  plant  was  figured. 
There  it  says  the  plant  "  has  been  long  an  inhabitant 
of  our  gardens,  being  introduced  by  the  same  Botanist 
[Catesby]  about  the  year  1728."  "It  bears  the  smoke 
of  large  towns  better  than  most  trees ;  the  largest 
specimen  we  have  ever  seen  grows  in  the  garden 
belonging  to  the  Society  of  Gray's  Inn."  There  is 
no  hint  that  the  tree  in  question  could  have  been 
here  before  Catesby's  discovery,  and  it  is  not  till 
Loudon's  Encyclopaedia  in  1822  that  the  planting  is 
attributed  to  Bacon.  Such  a  remarkable  tree  could 
hardly  have  escaped  all  gardeners  for  more  than  a 
century,  during  a  time  when  gardening  was  greatly 
in  fashion,  and  every  new  plant  greedily  sought  after. 
We  know  that  nearly  a  hundred  years  ago  this  specimen 
was  the  finest  in  England,  and  therefore  it  may  have 
been  planted  not  more  than  a  hundred  years  or  so 
after  Bacon's  death.  Raleigh  very  likely  walked  with 
Bacon  on  the  spot  where  it  now  stands,  but,  alas !  the 
possibility  that  he  brought  Bacon  a  tree  from  Virginia, 
which  was  only  discovered  near  the  Mississippi  a  century 
later,  is  hardly  credible. 

The  entrance  to  the  Gardens  on  the  Holborn  side 
is  through  massive  wrought-iron  gates,  on  which  the 
date   1723  is  legible.     The  letters   "  w.   i.   g."   are   the 


288     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

initials  of  the  Treasurer  during  whose  tenure  of  office 
they  were  erected,  the  "T"  above  standing  for  Treasurer. 
In  the  Inns  of  Chancery  a  "  P"  for  jPrincipal,  associated 
with  the  various  initials,  is  often  to  be  noticed.  These 
fine  gates  arc  a  charming  approach  to  the  sequestered 
walks  and  ancient  trees.  Gray's  Inn  Gardens  have 
another  delightful  speciality,  in  that  the  rooks  delight 
to  honour  them  by  building  there.  They  have  a  warm 
welcome,  and  good  food  in  cold  weather,  and  seem 
likely  to  remain.  Looking  through  the  lofty  iron 
gates,  the  rooks'  nests  are  seen,  and  the  pleasant  cawing 
sound  adds  greatly  to  the  attraction  of  the  place. 


GARDEN 


> 

O 

M 
> 

u 

Q 
> 

U 

-J 


durin^ 
abo\ 


rees,       Gray's    Inn    G 
:htiui  speciality,  in  that  the  rook 
-  I-   u  ..fj:„.^  there.     They  have  d. 
V  -    cold   weather,  and 

likely    tr  hrough    the    lofty   iron 

^       gates,  thv  -en,  and  the  pleasant  cawing 


sounn 


CHAPTER  XII 

HISTORICAL    GARDENS 

History  is  philosophy  teaching  by  examples. 

BoLINGBROKE. 

LTHOUGH  their  number  has  sadly 
diminished  of  late  years,  London 
still  has  a  few  spaces  remaining 
which  may  be  classed  as  gardens. 
Often  they  are  merely  green 
patches  of  a  formal  type,  which 
are  better  suited  to  the  present 
climate  than  attempts  at  flowers  ; 
but  a  few  regular  gardens  still  exist,  bringing  dreams 
of  a  former  period.  In  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital,  the 
oldest  of  all  such  institutions,  the  square,  with  a  hand- 
some fountain  in  the  centre,  is  more  what  one  expects 
to  find  in  Italy  than  in  Smithfield.  It  is  this  sort  of 
surprise  that  makes  the  charm  of  London,  and  renders 
a  wander  through  its  mazes  so  attractive.  What  a 
contrast  the  walk  of  a  few  minutes  can  bring  in  the 
heart  of  London  !  but  of  all  these  changes  none  is 
more  impressive  than  the  hush  of  the  Charterhouse 
after  the  rush  of  Aldermanbury  or  the  noise  of  Clerken- 
well.  There  is  still  lingering  there  the  touch  of  the 
old    monastery ;    a   breath   of  a   bygone    age    seems    to 

pervade  the  courtyards  and  gateways,  and  something  in 

289  ^ 


290     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

the  silence  speaks  of  another  world.     The  first  indica- 
tion of  its  hidden  green  courts  are  the  mulberry  leaves 
peeping    over    the    worn   stone   wall,  near    the    gateway 
which   leads  to  the  weathered  archway,  .the  entrance  of 
the  old  Carthusian  monastery.      This   is  the  very  spot 
where,    with    the   brutal    severity  of  Tudor   times,   the 
arm    of   the    last    Prior    was    exposed    after    his    cruel 
execution  at  Tyburn.     The  monastery,  founded  in  1371, 
was  dissolved  with   unusual  barbarity,  and   passed   into 
secular   hands.     The   possession   of  it  by  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk   has    left    its    mark    in    many    of   the    existing 
buildings,  as  he  converted  it  from  a  cloister  to  a  palace, 
but  its  palatial  days  did  not  last  long.     It  was  bought 
by  the  benevolent  Thomas  Sutton,  a  portion  of  whose 
large    fortune,    amassed    from    profitably    working    coal 
mines,  was  bestowed  in  founding  "  a  hospital  for  poor 
brethren  and  scholars."     The  scholars  have  been  taken 
away   from   the  historical  associations,   to   the  purer  air 
of  Godalming,  and  the  parts  of  the  buildings  devoted 
to   their   accommodation   were   in    1872   bought  by   the 
Merchants  Taylors'    Company  for  their    school.      The 
playing  field  of  the  boys  is  the  ample  space  which  was 
enclosed  by  the  cloister  of  the  monastery.      Part  of  the 
land  to  the  north  has  been  built  over,  and  a  tall  ware- 
house   overlooks    the    burying-ground    of    the    monks, 
which  is  still  a  large  green  sward  of  hallowed  ground, 
with  a  row  of  mulberries.     This  lies  so  far  below  the 
level  of  Clerkenwell  Road  that  a  flight  of  steps  leads 
to   the   postern   gate   in   the   high   wall,    overhung  with 
climbing   plants.     This  "  God's   acre "   is    covered   with 
smooth  turf,  and  some  day  the  two  walnut  trees  planted 
by  the  master   in    1901    may  afford  grateful  shade.     It 
is  in  keeping  with  the  spirit  of  the  place  to  plant  trees 


HISTORICAL    GARDENS  291 

of  such  slow  and  stately  growth.  The  Preachers'  Court 
and  the  smaller  Pensioners'  Court  are  like  college  quad- 
rangles, with  that  perfect  turf  that  England  alone  pro- 
duces. The  smooth  surface  is  broken  only  by  the 
regular  intersecting  gravel  paths,  and  one  row  of  mul- 
berry trees  some  seventy  years  old.  The  red-brick 
buildings  have  a  venerable  appearance,  although  they 
do  not  carry  the  weight  of  centuries  with  dignity,  like 
the  "Wash-house  Court,"  the  hall,  the  library,  or  the 
brick  cloister,  and  the  delightful  old  walls  with  their 
deliciously-scented  fig-trees.  The  whole  place  has  a 
medieval  look  and  feeling,  and  teems  with  ghosts  and 
recollections  of  the  monks  of  the  early  peaceful  days, 
and  their  courageous  successors  at  the  Dissolution.  The 
pious  founder,  as  the  chorus  of  the  old  Carthusian 
melody  says,  must  not  be  forgotten  : — 
"  Then  blessed  be  the  memory 

Of  good  old  Thomas  Sutton, 

Who  gave  us  lodging,  learning, 

As  well  as  beef  and  mutton." 

Of  the  shades  which  surround  these  peaceful  green 
courts  none  appear  more  real  than  that  of  Colonel 
Newcome.  The  guardian  will  point  out  the  room  in 
which  he  died,  or  his  pew  in  the  chapel,  as  if  he 
belonged  to  history  as  much  as  Wray,  who  bequeathed 
the  old  books  in  the  "  Officers'  Library,"  or  any  of  the 
well-known  pensioners.  With  such  true  and  pathetic 
touches  has  Thackeray  drawn  the  character  of  Colonel 
Newcome  that  fiction  has  here  become  entwined  round 
the  walls  almost  as  closely  as  fact. 

Further  eastward  is  an  open  piece  of  ground,  which  is 
hardly  a  garden  ;  but  as  it  is  green,  and  took  the  place  of 
what  was  known  as  the  Artillery  Garden,  it  may  claim  a 


292     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

moment's  consideration.  Push  open  a  door  in  the 
modern-looking  castellated  building  in  the  City  Road 
near  Bunhill  Fields,  and  a  large,  quiet,  open  space  is 
discovered.  Old  guns  look  inoffensively  down  on  a 
wide  square  of  green  turf.  This  is  the  home  of  the 
Honourable  Artillery  Company,  the  descendants  of  the 
"Trained  Bands"  of  citizens,  first  enrolled  in  1585  in 
the  fear  of  a  Spanish  invasion.  They  have  been  here 
since  1622,  when  they  moved  from  near  Bishopsgate 
Without.  "  Artillery  Garden,"  or  Teazel  Close  or 
Garden,  was  the  name  of  the  older  place,  from  the  teazel 
grown  there  for  the  cloth  workers. 

"  Teazel  of  ground  we  enlarge  St.  Mary's  Spittle, 
Trees  cut  down,  and  gardens  added  to  it, 
Thanks  to  the  lords  that  gave  us  leave  to  do  it," 

says  an  old  poem.  The  existing  Artillery  Ground  was 
a  great  place  for  cricket  matches,  where  county  met 
county  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It  was  here  that  a 
vast  crowd  witnessed  the  first  balloon  ever  launched  into 
the  air  in  England,  sent  up  by  Count  Zambeccari  in 
1783.  The  next  year,  from  the  same  place,  Lunardi  was 
more  ambitious,  and  actually  went  up  in  his  balloon. 
It  proved  too  small  for  the  friend  who  was  ready  to 
risk  his  life  in  his  company,  so  he  took  a  dog,  a  cat,  and 
a  pigeon  with  him  instead. 

Passing  on  into  the  City,  the  remains  of  the  once 
extensive  Drapers'  Garden  is  met  with.^  Only  a  small 
piece,  seen  from  the  street  through  iron  railings,  and 
approached  through  the  hall,  has  been  retained  ;  a  few 
trees  and  bright  flowers  survive  of  what  was  once  a 
fashionable  and  much  sought  after  resort. 

^  See  page  12. 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS 


293 


Most  of  the  other  patches  of  green  in  the  City  are 
disused  burial-grounds,  and  are  considered  in  a  chapter 
by  themselves.  Beyond  the  City,  on  the  east,  in  the  Mile 
End  Road,  is  the  quiet  old  Trinity  Hospital.  It  stands 
on  the  north  of  that  wide  road,  which  might  be  made 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  entrances  to  the  City.     The 


Trinity  Almshouses,  Mile  End  Road 

simple  good  taste  of  these  delightful  old  almshouses  is 
a  great  contrast  to  some  of  the  surroundings.  They 
were  probably  designed  by  John  Evelyn,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  Wren.  His  father-in-law,  Sir  Richard  Browne, 
founded  and  built  very  similar  almshouses  at  Deptford, 
long  since  swept  away.  Of  these  Evelyn  writes,  "  It 
was  a  good  and  charitable  work  and  gift,  but  would  have 
been  better  bestowed  on  the  poor  of  that  parish  than  on 
seamen's  widows,  the  Trinity  Company  being  very  rich, 


294     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

and  the  rest  of  the  poor  of  the  parish  exceedingly  indi- 
gent." In  spite  of  these  sentiments,  he  is  believed  to 
have  had  a  hand  in  the  Mile  End  Almshouses,  which 
were  founded  by  Captain  Henry  Mudd  of  Ratcliffe, 
Captain  Sandes  or  Sanders,  and  Captain  Maples.  The 
two  last  are  remembered  by  statues  still  standing  in  the 
little  formal  gardens.  Maples,  who  appears  in  the  dress 
of  a  naval  officer  of  the  period,  left  a  fortune  for  the  use 
of  the  guild  in  diamonds,  collected  in  India,  where  he 
was  an  early  pioneer,  and  where  he  died  in  1680.  A 
similar  endowment  in  Hull  is  described  in  a  poem  in 
1662  : — 

"  It  is  a  comely  built,  well-ordered  place, 
But  that  which  most  of  all  the  house  doth  grace 
Are  rooms  for  widowes,  who  are  old  and  poore, 
And  have  been  wives  to  mariners  before." 

Certainly  Trinity  Hospital,  Mile  End,  is  comely  and 
well  ordered.  The  pensioners  take  a  pride  in  keeping 
every  nook  and  corner  scrupulously  clean.  Everything 
is,  in  fact,  in  "ship-shape"  order.  The  grass  is  neatly 
mown,  the  trees  on  either  side  well  trimmed  and  clipped. 
Outside  each  little  house  a  few  plants  are  carefully 
tended,  the  pots  arranged  with  precision,  and  every 
flower  looked  after  with  pride.  It  is  indeed  a  peaceful 
place  for  these  old  people  to  pass  their  declining  years 
in,  and  the  sight  makes  the  regret  for  St.  Katharine's  and 
the  other  vanished  charitable  buildings  all  the  more  keen. 
The  site  of  another  benevolent  institution  near  is 
fulfilling  a  useful  and  delightful  task,  although  the 
old  houses  attached  to  it  have  disappeared.  It  was 
a  row  of  almshouses  founded  by  a  member  of  the 
Brewers'  Company,  named  Baker,  about  150  years  ago, 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS  295 

for  widows.     The  garden  was  much  too  large  for  these 
decrepid  old  women  to  cultivate,  so  the  place  was  taken 
in  hand  some  twenty-five  years  ago  by  the  Rev.  Sidney 
Vatcher,  who  built  the  beautiful  church  of  St.   Phihp, 
Stepney,   hard   by,  and   he    became    the    tenant    of   the 
Brewers'  Company.     This  charming  garden  was  at  first 
more  or  less  opened  by  him  to  the  parish,  but  lately  it 
has  been  put  to  the  most  suitable  use  of  giving  a  quiet 
place  for  rest  and  recreation  to  the  nurses  of  the  London 
Hospital.       The    almshouses    were    pulled    down  about 
four  years  ago,  to  make  way  for  the   laundries   of  the 
Hospital.      Here,  indeed,  is  one  of  those   sudden  and 
surprising  contrasts  to  be   found   in  London.     A  high 
brick  wall  encloses  this  oasis,  and  the  nurses  and  some 
privileged  people  have  keys  to  the  door,  which  opens, 
from  a  side  street  close  to  the  noise  of  the   Mile  End 
Road,  suddenly  into  a  peaceful,  picturesque  garden.    The 
idea  in  the  formation  was  a  willow-pattern  plate,  and  the 
little    bridge    over    a    miniature    stream    is    reproduced. 
Plane  trees  in  a  formal  array  are  kept  trimmed  to  give 
a  dense  shade,  and  the  hammocks  hung  from  them  in 
summer  provide   the   most  ideal  resting-places   for    the 
worn-out  nurses.     At  one  time  animals  were  kept  here 
in  cages,  as  a  kind  of  small  "Zoo"  for   Whitechapel ; 
but  since  the  last  alterations  the  animals  have  been  re- 
linquished, and   the  bear-pit    makes   a    delightful   rock 
garden,  and  the  various  other  cages  form  summer-houses. 
One  thoughtful  addition  of  the  vicar  was  placing  a  small 
stove  in  one  of  these  shelters,  with  an  array  of  kettles, 
teapots,   cups  and   saucers,   so   that   any   of   the    nurses 
resting   can  have  their  al  fresco  cup   of  tea— and    what 
could    be   more   grateful   and    comforting?      A   French 
writer  who  recently  gave   her  impressions   of  L'lle   In- 


296     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

connue  was  charmed  with  the  peace  and  repose  of  this 
little  East  End  Paradise.  After  seeing  the  Hospital  and 
all  its  wonderful  appliances,  "  You  will  now  see  our 
Eden,"  said  the  guide.  "  Ici !  I'Eden  !  m'ecriai-je,  apres 
le  peche  alors  !  "  Then,  when  she  had  for  a  moment  looked 
within  those  mysterious  high  walls,  "  N'avais-je  pas  raison 
d'appeler  ce  jardin  I'Eden.?"  said  the  friend.  "Qui, 
repondis-je,  c'est  I'Eden  apres  la  Redemption."  Cer- 
tainly any  one  who  sees  this  little  garden,  and  realises 
the  devoted  lives  of  those  who  made  it  and  those  who 
enjoy  it,  must  agree  with  this  writer. 

It  is  not  often  that,  when  the  old  almshouses  vanish, 
the  neighbourhood  benefits  to  such  an  extent.  What 
will  be  the  fate  of  the  Ironmongers'  Almshouses  in 
Kingsland  Road,  between  Shoreditch  and  Dalston  ?  A 
large  board  in  the  garden  that  fronts  the  street  announces 
the  site  is  for  sale  ! 

The  Foundling  Hospital  has  large  green  courts,  on 
which  the  merry  but  sombrely-clad  little  children  are 
seen  running  about,  through  the  fine  iron  gates  which 
face  Guildford  Street.  This  was  founded  in  1739  by 
Captain  Thomas  Coram,  who  gave  so  much  of  his  wealth 
to  objects  of  charity  and  philanthropy  that  a  subscription 
had  to  be  raised  to  support  him  in  his  old  age.  Theo- 
dore Jacobson  (died  1772)  was  the  architect  of  the 
building.  A  colonnade  runs  round  the  whole  length  of 
the  forecourt  up  to  the  gates,  part  of  which  is  used  as 
laundries,  or  other  things  necessary  to  the  institution. 
A  writer  in  1773  describes  the  'Marge  area  between  the 
gates  and  the  hospital  "  as  "  adorned  with  grass  plats, 
gravel  walks,  and  lamps  erected  upon  handsome  posts  : 
beside  which  there  are  two  convenient  gardens,"  and 
exactly  the  same  description  holds  good  to-day.     Bruns- 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS  297 

wick  Square  lies  to  the  west,  and  Mecklenburgh  Square 
to  the  east,  so  the  Hospital  grounds  are  still  airy.  There 
is  a  small  garden  at  the  back  of  the  building  in  front  of 
the  Infirmary ;  on  the  east  is  the  Treasurer's  Garden, 
a  fair-sized  enclosure,  and  on  the  other  side,  with  the 
poplars  growing  in  Brunswick  Square  overhanging  it,  lies 
the  other  and  larger  of  the  two  "  convenient  gardens." 
There  is  nothing  old-fashioned  or  attractive  in  these 
gardens  left ;  merely  a  green  lawn,  a  weeping  ash,  and  a 
few  commonplace  '*  bedding-out  "  plants  ;  not  altogether 
in  keeping  with  the  age  or  dignity  of  the  building  and 
spacious  forecourt. 

Less  well  known  is  the  delightful  Garden  of  the  Grey- 
coat School  in  Westminster.  Most  of  the  old  founda- 
tions in  Westminster  have  vanished,  such  as  Emanuel 
Hospital  and  the  "  Blue-coat  School,"  which  disappeared 
a  few  years  ago,  but  so  far  this  charming  old  house  has 
been  respected.  Quaint  figures  of  the  children  in  the 
dress  of  the  time — it  v/as  founded  by  the  citizens  of 
Westminster  in  1698 — stand  on  either  side  of  the 
entrance.  The  children  from  the  parishes  of  St. 
Margaret  and  St.  John  the  Evangelist,  who  have 
attended  the  elementary  schools  for  three  years,  are 
eligible  for  admission,  up  to  the  age  of  ten.  The 
school  was  reconstituted  as  a  day  school  for  300  girls 
in  1873,  ^"'^>  i^  spite  of  all  educational  vicissitudes,  has 
been  allowed  to  survive,  and  the  sweet  and  wholesome 
influence  of  those  old-fashioned  surroundings  would  be 
a  great  loss,  should  it  ever  be  swept  away.  The  Garden 
is  delightful.  It  is  practical  as  well  as  ornamental,  as  it 
furnishes  the  staff  of  teachers  with  a  good  supply  of 
vegetables.  They  have  each  a  small  flower-bed  too, 
tended  with  great  care,  and  the  children  are  allowed  a 


298     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

place  of  their  own,  where  they  work,  dig,  and  plant. 
Down  the  centre  runs  a  wide  gravel  walk,  with  a  deep 
herbaceous  border  along  either  side,  sweet-scented  pinks 
and  low-growing  plants  near  the  front,  then  a  long  row 
of  spiderwort,  and  behind  that  a  regiment  of  magnificent 
hollyhocks.  The  spiderwort  or  Tradescantia  is  a  flower 
eminently  suited  to  London  gardens,  not  only  because  it 
seems  to  withstand  any  amount  of  smoke  and  bad  air, 
but  because  of  its  association  with  the  famous  garden  in 
Lambeth,  where  it  was  first  grown.  Parkinson,  in  1629, 
gives  the  history  of  his  friend's  introduction  of  the  plant. 
"  The  Spiderwort,"  he  writes,  "  is  of  late  knowledge,  and 
for  it  the  Christian  World  is  indebted  unto  that  painfull 
industrious  searcher,  and  lover  of  all  nature's  varieties, 
John  Tradescant  (sometimes  belonging  to  the  Right 
Honourable  Lord  Robert  Earle  of  Salisbury,  Lord 
Treasurer  of  England  in  his  time,  and  unto  the  Right 
Honourable  the  Lord  Wotton  at  Canterbury  in  Kent, 
and  lastly  unto  the  late  Duke  of  Buckingham),  who  first 
received  it  of  a  friend,  that  brought  it  out  of  Virginia, 
thinking  it  to  bee  the  Silke  Grasse  that  groweth  there, 
and  hath  imparted  hereof,  as  of  many  other  things, 
both  to  me  and  others."  "Unto  this  plant  I  confess  I 
first  imposed  the  name  .  .  .  which  untill  some  can  finde 
a  more  proper,  I  desire  may  still  continue  .  .  .  John 
Tradescant's  Spider  Wort  of  Virginia."  Courageous  as 
herbalists  generally  v/ere  in  tasting  plants,  Parkinson 
confesses  there  had  "  not  beene  any  tryall  made  of  the 
properties "  or  "  vertues."  Luckily  no  one  has  dis- 
puted Parkinson's  choice  of  a  name,  and  his  friend's 
memory  is  still  preserved.  The  plant  is  not  confined 
to  Virginia,  but  grows  much  further  into  the  Wild  West, 
and  is  common  in  Kansas,  Nebraska,  and  distant  States. 


GREY  COAT  SCHOOL,  WESTMINSTER 


iRKS    c^   GAR 

ilk,  wi 

cither  side,  sv. 
near  the  front,  Ui 
id  that  a  regiment -c  it 

u:  spiderwort  or  Tradescantia  i 
ted  to  London  gardens,  not  only  because  it 

uiihstand  -ount  of  smoke  and  bad  air, 

jse  of  its  as  .1  with  the  famous  garden  in 

Lambeth,  w)  as  first  grown.     Parkinson,  in  1629, 

gives  the  histor)  duction  of  the  plant. 

*'TheS;--  ■--  -      ''- '    '-    -nd 

for  it  th'  ul 


'■leties, 


J 


and  lasti^  Duke  or  Buckv  ,  who  first 

received  i:  ci  a  triv^na,  that  brought  it  oui  of  Virginia, 
thinking  it  to  bee  the  Silke  Grasse  that  groweth  there, 
and  hath  imparted  hereof,  as  of  many  other  things, 
both  .!id  others."     ''Unto  this  plant  I  confess  I 

first  imposed  the  name  .   .  ill  some  can  finde 

.    ,.,,-,       ,    ,  .  ,.    T    4,.:^.    .  itinue  '.   .   .  John 

Courageous  as 
.slants,    Parkinson 
cuni'  not  beenc  any   tryall  made  of  the 

p-  •  -'?'."      Luckily   no    one    has   dis- 

[  ce   of  a    name,  and  his  friend's 

memory  preserved.     The  plant  is  not  confined 

-.,•  V:    '  .u  -  :     r.  •  ■■-.   &■■  Wild  West, 

,  .dagX^KUMxaaw,  3^p«-:3g,  ji^og^aXSMt  states. 


\l:c*^^o  'i"^;'^' 


HISTORICAL    GARDENS  299 

Yet  it  will  still  adapt  itself  to  the  grimy  limits  of  a 
London  garden,  and  flower  year  after  year.  The  Grey- 
coat School  Garden  is  quite  refreshing  ;  the  plants  look 
so  healthy  and  prosperous  that  it  is  really  encourag- 
ing. The  interior  of  the  house,  with  oak  beams  and 
panels,  is  all  in  keeping,  and  the  long  class-room,  with 
windows  looking  out  on  the  bright  Garden,  is  most  ideal. 
As,  at  the  close  of  their  afternoon  studies,  the  girls,  sing- 
ing sweetly  in  parts,  join  in  some  familiar  hymn,  and  the 
melodious  sounds  are  wafted  across  the  sunlit  Garden,  it 
is  hard  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  the  crowded,  un- 
savoury slums  of  Westminster,  only  a  stone's  throw  from 
this  "haunt  of  ancient  peace." 

Among  its  many  charms  and  associations  Westminster 
Abbey  can  lay  claim  to  possessing  one  of  the  oldest 
gardens  in  England.  The  ground  still  occupied  by  the 
space  known  as  the  "College  Garden"  was  part  of  the 
infirmary  garden  of  the  ancient  monastery.  It  cannot 
trace  back  its  history  with  the  Abbey  to  the  Saxon 
Sebert,  but  when  Edward  the  Confessor's  pile  began  to 
rise,  and  all  the  usual  adjuncts  of  a  monastery  gathered 
round  it,  the  infirmary  with  the  necessary  herb-garden  of 
simples  for  treating  the  sick  monks  would  be  one  of  the 
first  buildings  to  be  completed.  One  of  the  most  peace- 
ful and  retired  spots  within  the  Abbey  precincts  is  the 
Little  Cloister,  which  was  the  infirmary  in  early  days. 
When  the  Great  Cloister  was  finished  in  1365,  the 
Little  Cloister  was  taken  in  hand.  Payments  for  work 
on  "the  New  Cloister  of  the  Infirmary"  appear  in  the 
accounts  from  1377,  and  it  was  completed  in  1390,  and 
that  year  the  centre  was  laid  down  in  turf.  The  garden 
belonging  to  the  infirmary  covered  all  the  space  now 
occupied    by    the    "  College    Garden,"    and    joined    the 


300     LONDON    PARKS    <^    GARDENS 

"  Grete  Garden,"  which  lay  to  the  west.  It  was  pro- 
bably, like  all  the  gardens  of  that  date,  laid  out  in  long, 
narrow,  straight  beds,  in  which  were  grown  all  the  heal- 
ing herbs  used  for  the  sick  of  the  monastery.  Probably 
there  were  fruit-trees,  too,  as  in  1362  John  de  Mordon, 
the  infirmarer,  got  9s.  for  his  apples,  and  the  following 
year  los.  for  pears  and  apples.  No  doubt  the  favourite 
Wardon  pear  was  among  them,  as  in  another  record, 
between  1380-90,  it  is  specially  mentioned.  The  chapel 
of  St.  Katharine,  which  stood  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Garden,  was  destroyed  in  Elizabeth's  reign.  This,  the 
infirmary  chapel  of  Norman  building,  was  as  replete 
with  history  as  every  other  nook  and  corner  of  the  Abbey 
buildings.  Here  St.  Hugh  of  Lincoln  and  most  of  the 
early  bishops  were  consecrated,  and  here  took  place  the 
unseemly  dispute  for  precedence,  between  the  Primates  of 
Canterbury  and  York  in  11 86,  which  led  to  the  settling 
of  their  respective  ranks  by  the  Pope.  While  so  many 
changes  have  swept  over  the  Abbey,  and  whole  buildings 
have  vanished,  the  herb-garden  of  early  days  has  kept  its 
place,  and  is  still  a  garden,  though  bereft  of  its  neat  little 
beds. 

The  Little  Cloister  has  been  greatly  altered  since  then, 
having  been  refashioned  in  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century  under  the  influence  of  Wren.  Although  so  changed 
since  the  time  when  strange  decoctions  of  medicinal  herbs 
were  administered  within  its  walls,  it  has  retained  much 
of  its  fascination,  and  the  approach  to  it  by  the  dim 
vaulted  entrance,  dating  from  the  Confessor's  time,  out 
of  the  narrow  passage  known  as  the  "  Dark  Entry,"  adds 
to  its  charm.  The  sun  streams  down  on  this  small 
court,  with  its  tree  and  ferns  and  old  moss-grown  foun- 
tain, lighting    it    with    a    kind   of  "  dusky   splendour." 


>  ji^^  ^ 


«- 


■  ^   • 


^'c%; 


Abbey  Garden,  Westminster 


302     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

Any  one  standing  in  this  suggestive  spot  will  feel  with 
Washington  Irving,  that  "The  Cloisters  still  retain 
something  of  the  quiet  and  seclusion  of  former  days. 
The  gray  walls  are  discoloured  by  damps,  and  crumbling 
with  age ;  a  coat  of  hoary  moss  has  gathered  over  the 
inscriptions  of  the  mural  monuments,  and  obscured 
the  death's  heads,  and  other  mural  emblems.  The 
sharp  touches  of  the  chisel  are  gone  from  the  rich 
tracery  of  the  arches ;  the  roses  which  adorned  the 
keystones  have  lost  their  leafy  beauty  ;  everything  bears 
marks  of  the  gradual  dilapidations  of  time,  which  yet 
has  something  touching  and  pleasing  in  its  very  decay." 

These  lines  refer  to  the  Great  Cloister,  but  the  quiet 
and  repose  are  still  more  noticeable  in  the  Little  Cloister, 
which  rarely  echoes  to  the  sound  of  hurrying  feet.  The 
noise  and  laughter  of  Westminster  scholars  is  only  dimly 
heard  in  this  secluded  corner.  The  boys  are  not  as 
boisterous  as  when  Horace  Walpole  feared  to  face  them 
alone,  even  to  visit  his  mother's  tomb.  "  I  literally  had 
not  courage  to  venture  alone  among  the  Westminster 
boys ;  they  are  as  formidable  to  me  as  the  ship  carpenters 
at  Portsmouth,"  he  wrote  in  1754.  Even  in  those  days 
the  list  of  eminent  scholars  was  already  a  long  one — 
Hakluyt,  Ben  Jonson,  George  Herbert,  Dryden,  Wren, 
being  on  the  roll  of  those  who  had  passed  away,  besides 
others  then  living,  such  as  Gibbon  and  Warren  Hastings, 
who  carried  on  the  tradition  of  this  classic  ground. 

In  monastic  times  there  were  many  gardens  within  the 
precincts  of  the  Abbey,  besides  the  infirmary  garden  ;  but 
it  is  difficult  to  locate  all  of  them  with  certainty,  although 
the  sites  of  some  are  known.  The  abbot's  garden  lay 
in  the  north-west  angle  of  the  wall,  and  must  have 
covered  part  of  the  present  Broad  Sanctuary,  including 


THE  LITTLE  CLOISTER,  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY 


•  suggestive  sp< 
-Hit    "The    Cloisteio 
..iet  and  seclusion  of   t 
.i  are  discoloured  by  damps,  ai: 
a  coat  of  hoary  moss  has  gathercu  . 
;    of    the    mural    monuments,   and    ou^ 
s    heads,    and    other    mural    emblems, 
sharp   touches   of  the   chisel    are   gone    from   the    rich 
tracery    of  the    arches;    the   roses   which    adorned   the 
keystones  have   '^"     '    ■"  ^  "^"^eauty;  everything  bears 
marks  of  the  ,  ns  of  time,  which  yet 

has  something  its  very  decay." 

an  J 


hea 

boiste;  carea  - 

alone,  -   - .      o.     "  1  j  ^ 

not  courage  to  venture  alone  among  the  Westminster 

boys ;  they  are  as  formidable  to  me  as  the  ship  carpenters 

at  Port  '  ,"  he  wrote  in  t"  ^         ^'     n  in  those  days 

the   •"  inent   c,r!u. lii-  /   a  long  one — 

H  Dry  den,  Wren, 

d  away,  besides 

otl.  arren  Hastings, 

^- '  .-..iC  ground. 

.  gardens  within  the 

precincts  of  the  Abbey,  besides  the  infirmary  garden  ;  but 

it  is  di  ~  ill  of  them  with  certain- 

the  sitca  v>.   cv^'.^.v.   u.c  known.     The  abbot's  ^...w.. 

'"    the    north-west   anp;le   of  the   wall,   and    must 

Y3aaA  ^3T27IIMT23W  »H3T2IOJD  3JTTIJ  3HT 


HISTORICAL    GARDENS  303 

the  spot  where  the  Crimean  monument  now  stands. 
Beyond  the  abbot's  house,  just  west  of  the  cloister,  was 
the  abbot's  little  garden.  The  northern  part  of  Dean's 
Yard  was  from  very  early  times  known  as  "  The  Elms," 
from  the  grove  of  fine  trees,  some  of  which  remain.  It 
is  said  that  when  Elizabeth  ascended  the  throne  and 
summoned  Abbot  Feckenham,  who  had  been  reinstated 
by  Mary,  he  was  planting  some,  perhaps  these  identical, 
elm  trees.  Among  them  formerly  stood  a  huge  oak, 
which  was  blown  down  in  1791-  The  horse  pool  was 
on  the  west  of  the  Elms,  and  beyond  both  to  the  south 
lay  the  numerous  adjuncts  of  the  monastery,  the  brew- 
house,  bakehouse,  and  granaries.  Skirting  this  enclosure 
was  the  "  Long  Ditch,"  which  flowed  by  the  line  of  the 
present  Delahay  Street  and  Prince's  Streets,  and  passed 
along  outside  of  the  wall  of  the  Infirmary  Garden,  in  what 
is  now  Great  College  Street,  and  fell  into  the  Thames. 
This  stream  turned  the  mill  from  which  "  Millbank " 
took  its  name.  In  it,  to  the  south  of  the  granary,  was 
a  small  island  osier  bed.  The  sale  of  the  osiers  on  it 
used  to  bring  in  los.  annually  in  the  fourteenth  century. 
Beyond  the  stream  were  more  gardens.  The  "  Hostry 
Garden "  was  a  large  one  on  the  site  of  the  church 
of  St.  John,  and  next  to  it  the  "  Bowling  Alley,"  where 
Bowling  Street  ran  in  later  times,  and  to  the  west  of  that 
was  a  kitchen-garden.  Somewhere  also  on  the  west  of 
the  "  Long  Ditch,"  before  it  turned  towards  the  Thames 
near  the  osier  island,  must  have  been  the  "Precentor's 
Mede,"  or,  as  it  was  sometimes  called,  the  "  Chaunter's- 
hull,"  and  also  the  "Almoner's  Mede"  or  "  Almery 
Garden."  On  the  other  side  of  the  "  Hostry  Garden," 
southwards  on  the  site  of  "  Vine  Street  "  and  "  Market 
Street,"   was    situated   the   vineyard,   without  which    no 


304     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

thirteenth-century  monastery  was  complete,  and  "  Market 
Mede."  Even  this  does  not  exhaust  the  list  of  separate 
gardens,  but  the  others  probably  lay  further  away.  The 
cellarer  had  charge  of  a  large  garden,  which  may  have  been 
the  "  Convent  Garden,"  which  is  so  familiar  as  "  Covent 
Garden  "  that  the  connection  between  the  site  of  the 
market  and  the  Abbey  has  been  lost  sight  of.  One 
of  the  large  gardens  which  .  was  generally  let  was 
"  Maudit's  Garden."  In  the  records  it  is  spoken  of  as 
"  Maudit's"  or  "  Caleys."  The  name  Maudit  was  given 
to  it  because  Thomas  Maudit,  Earl  of  Warwick,  in  the 
thirteenth  century  effected  an  exchange  of  lands  with 
the  Abbey,  of  which  the  garden  formed  a  part.  The 
other  name,  "Caleys,"  was  "Calais,"  named  from  the 
wool  staplers  who  came  from  that  town  and  resided 
near  there,  just  as  "  Petty  France  "  (where  Milton  lived) 
was  called  so  from  the  French  merchants.  An  Act  of 
interchange  of  land  between  Henry  VIII.  and  the  Abbey, 
in  the  twenty-third  year  of  his  reign,  mentions  "  a 
certain  great  messuage  or  tenement  commonly  called 
Pety  Caleys,  and  all  messuages,  houses,  barns,  stables, 
dove-houses,  orchards,  gardens,  pools,  fisheries,  waters, 
ditches,  lands,  meadows,  and  pastures."  Part  of  this  was 
"  Maudit's  "  garden,  which  was  sometimes  in  the  hands 
of  the  convent,  but  more  frequently  let  out.  Among 
the  muniments  in  1350,  "a  toft  called  Maudit's  garden, 
and  a  croft  called  Maudit's  croft,"  are  referred  to.  There 
seems  to  have  been  an  enclosure  within  this  "  toft  "  which 
was  let  out  separately,  and  in  the  twentieth  year  of 
Edward  IV.,  Matilda,  the  widow  of  Richard  Willy,  who 
had  held  it,  gave  up  this  enclosure  or  "  conyn  garth." 
This  was  probably  a  "  coney  garth  "  or  rabbit  enclosure, 
like  the  one  at  Lincoln's  Inn,   which   was   kept  up  for 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS  305 

a  long  time.  Such  rabbit  gardens  were  by  no  means 
uncommon.  All  gardening  operations  must  at  times 
have  been  rendered  difficult  by  reason  of  the  wet  soil 
and  frequent  flooding  of  the  river,  but  with  the  patient 
persistence  characteristic  of  gardeners  in  those  days,  the 
gardens  in  monastic  times  were  probably  well  kept,  and 
yielded  profitable  crops.  It  is  delightful  to  know  that, 
in  spite  of  all  the  changes,  one  portion  of  the  old  gardens 
actually  remains  to  this  day. 

Lambeth,  on  the  opposite  bank,  fared  no  better  than 
Westminster  for  high  tides,  and  wet  seasons  did  occasional 
damage  there.  In  Archbishop  Laud's  Diary,  he  notes 
the  inroad  of  a  high  tide,  which  certainly  would  be  de- 
structive: — "November  15,  1635,  Sunday.  At  after- 
noon the  greatest  tide  that  hath  been  seen.  It  came 
within  my  gates,  walks,  cloysters,  and  stables  at 
Lambeth."  Nothing  of  great  antiquity  now  remains 
in  these  Lambeth  Gardens,  although  they  are  indeed 
historic  ground.  The  long  terrace  and  wide  herbaceous 
border,  with  a  profusion  of  madonna  lilies,  backed  by 
a  wooden  paling,  and  fruit-trees  peeping  over,  is  now  a 
charming  walk.  The  trees  on  the  right  of  the  illus- 
tration are  planes,  ailanthus,  and  catalpas,  all  smoke- 
resisting  and  suitable,  but  not  such  as  would  have 
ornamented  the  Garden  in  older  days,  when  Archbishop 
Cranmer  adorned  his  garden  with  "  a  summer-house  of 
exquisite  workmanship."  It  was  designed  by  his  chap- 
lain. Dr.  John  Ponet  or  Poynet,  who  is  said  to  have 
had  "  great  skill  and  taste  in  works  of  that  kind."  The 
summer-house  was  repaired  by  Archbishop  Parker,  but 
afterwards  fell  into  decay  and  was  removed,  and  in  1828 
not  even  a  tradition  of  where  it  had  stood  remained. 
The    site    of   "  Clarendon's    Walk,"    another    historical 

u 


3o6     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

corner  of  the  Lambeth  Garden,  is  also  uncertain.  It 
appears  to  have  received  the  name  from  a  conversation 
which  took  place  in  the  Garden  between  Laud  and 
Hyde,  in  which  the  latter  seems  to  have  told  the 
Archbishop  pretty  plainly  that  "  people  were  universally 
discontented  .  .  .  and  many  people  spoke  extreme  ill 
of  his  grace,"  on  account  of  his  discourteous  manners, 
which  culminated  on  one  occasion  by  his  telling  a  guest 
"  he  had  no  time  for  compliments,"  which  greatly  in- 
censed him.  The  only  survivals  of  former  years  are 
the  delightfully  fragrant  fig-trees,  which  flourish  between 
the  buttresses  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  library — the 
great  hall  rebuilt  by  Archbishop  Juxon  after  the 
destruction  in  Cromwell's  time.  These  figs  are  now 
fair-sized  trees,  but  they  are  only  cuttings  of  the  older 
ones  destroyed  in  1829,  when  Archbishop  Howley 
commenced  his  rebuilding.  The  two  parent  trees,  in 
1792,  measured  28  inches  and  21  inches  in  circum- 
ference, and  were  50  feet  high  and  40  feet  in  breadth, 
and,  according  to  contemporary  evidence,  bore  delicious 
fruit  of  the  white  Marseilles  variety.  Tradition  ascribed 
their  planting  to  Cardinal  Pole  during  his  brief  sojourn 
as  Archbishop. 

Latimer  seems  much  to  have  appreciated  the  Lambeth 
Garden,  when  business  called  him  to  the  Palace.  Sir 
Thomas  More  describes,  in  1534,  how  he  watched  him 
walking  in  the  Garden  from  the  windows.  Latimer 
himself,  in  writing  to  Edward  VI.,  says,  "  I  trouble  my 
Lord  of  Canterbury,  and  being  at  his  house  now  and 
then,  I  walk  in  the  Garden  looking  at  my  book,  as  I 
can  do  but  little  good  at  it.  But  something  I  must 
needs  do  to  satisfy  the  place.  I  am  no  sooner  in  the 
Garden    and   have   read   awhile,  but  by-and-by  cometh 


H 

PQ 

IS 
< 

M 
Q 

O 

PQ 

O 

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< 

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ity  plainly  that  "people  were  Uly 

and   many  people   spoke 
" — ►  -i^  ^'"-  discourteous  i. 
bv  his  telling  ^ 
Jj  ich  greatly  in- 

^en  tormer  years  are 

^'  " ^ 

M 
PQ 

> 

u 

■grornme 

W 
Q 
iij 
O 
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cShe  .g  to  Cardinal  Pole  during  his  brief  sojourn 

w 
u 

> 

W  c  watched  him 

•^  Latimer 

;  b,      i   troi     ' 

„     „  ::is  house   n 

then,  I  ing  at  my  book,  as  I 

can  do  but  little  good  a  inx  something  I  must 

lO  to  s?      '      '  am   nf'                       '  .^ 

^nH  mt  by- 


« 


•  Mr)  -W*^ 


HISTORICAL    GARDENS  307 

there  some  one  or  other  knocking  at  the  gate.  Anon 
Cometh  my  man  and  saith,  '  Sir,  there  is  one  at  the 
gate  would  speak  with  you.' "  How  many  of  us 
that  have  been  called  in  from  a  pleasant  garden  to 
perform  some  unpleasant  task  will  sympathise  with  the 
Bishop  ! 

One  famous  inhabitant  of  the  Garden  lived  through 
many  and  great  changes.  This  was  a  tortoise,  which  is 
said  to  have  been  put  into  the  Garden  by  Archbishop 
Laud,  and  lived  until  1757,  when  he  perished  by  the 
negligence  of  a  gardener.  This  legend  is  apparently  quite 
true,  so  it  had  been  there  for  over  no  years. 

A  short  account  of  the  principal  gardens  near  London, 
written  by  Gibson  in  1691,  describes  that  of  Lambeth 
Palace.  It  "  has,"  he  says,  "  little  in  it  but  walks,  the 
late  Archbishop  [Sancroft]  not  delighting  in "  gardens, 
"  but  they  are  now  making  them  better ;  and  they  have 
already  made  a  green-house,  one  of  the  finest  and/costliest 
about  the  town.  It  is  of  three  rooms,  the  middle  having 
a  stove  under  it ;  .  .  .  but  it  is  placed  so  near  Lambeth 
Church,  that  the  sun  shines  most  on  it  in  winter  after 
eleven  o'clock,  a  fault  owned  by  the  gardener,  but  not 
thought  of  by  the  contrivers.  Most  of  the  greens  are 
oranges  and  lemons,  which  have  very  large  ripe  fruit  on 
them."  The  Archbishop  who  thus  took  the  garden  in 
hand  was  Tillotson,  and  it  is  not  surprising  to  find  him 
adopting  that  keenness  for  gardening  and  the  cultivation 
of  "  greens  "  brought  into  fashion  by  William   III. 

Nearly  ten  acres  of  the  extensive  grounds  of  Lambeth 
Palace  have  now  been  put  under  the  management  of  the 
London  County  Council,  and  made  open  to  the  public 
as  "  Archbishop's  Park."  For  many  years  this  Park 
had  been   used   for   cricket   and   so   on,    but   the   trans- 


3o8     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

ference  entailed  some  alterations,  and  extended  its  use 
to  a  wider  circle. 

The  Garden  of  Fulham,  the  other  ecclesiastical  palace 
of  London,  is  even  more  interesting  than  Lambeth,  on 
account  of  the  fine  trees  still  remaining  of  which  the 
history  is  known.  Among  the  Bishops  of  London 
several  have  shown  great  interest  in  the  gardens, 
and  two  especially,  Grindal  and  Compton,  were 
eminent  gardeners.  The  tamarisk  was  introduced  by 
Bishop  Grindal,  and  in  the  golden  age  of  gardening 
he  was  in  the  foremost  rank  of  the  patrons  of 
the  art,  with  Bacon  and  Burghley.  He  used  to  send 
Queen  Elizabeth  presents  of  choice  fruits  from  his 
garden,  and  on  one  occasion  got  into  trouble  by  send- 
ing fruit,  when  one  of  his  servants  was  supposed, 
unjustly,  to  have  the  plague.  He  wrote  (5th  August 
1566)  to  Burghley,  to  say  he  was  sorry  he  had  "no 
fruit  to  offer  him  but  some  grapes."  These  grapes 
were  of  course  produced  out  of  doors,  as  growing 
vines  in  green-houses  was  a  fashion  unknown  until 
some  150  years  later.  Even  before  the  additions  of 
Grindal,  thef  gardens  were  extensive,  and  Bonner  is  said 
to  have  been  imuch  in  his  garden,  not  from  the  love  of 
its  repose, "  but,  according  to  contemporary  but  pre- 
judiced chroniclers,  because  in  the  further  arbours  of 
the  garden  he  could  with  the  rod  or  by  other  equally 
stringent  measures,  "  persuade "  undisturbed  those  of 
the  reformed  religion  to  recant  and  adopt  his  views. 
His  successor,  Grindal,  used  the  Garden  for  more  laud- 
able and  peaceful  practices,  and  his  work  of  planting 
was  much' appreciated  in  that  garden-loving  age.  Bishop 
Aylmer,  who,  after  Sandys,  succeeded  Grindal  in  1577, 
was  accused  "of  destroying  much  of  Grindal's  work  and 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS  309 

cutting  down  his  trees,  then  some  thirty-five  years  old. 
Strype,  however,  protests  that  he  only  cut  down  "  two 
or  three  of  the  decayed  ones."  That  there  should  be 
a  controversy  on  the  subject  only  shows  how  much 
was  thought  of  Grindal's  planting.  The  same  thing 
happened  after  the  death  of  Compton,  the  next  great 
planter,  as  Robinson,  who  followed  him,  let  the  gar- 
dener sell  and  cut  down  as  much  as  he  liked.  In  our 
own  day,  even,  some  of  Compton's  elms  have  been 
removed,  to  make  the  alterations  in  the  Bishop's  Park 
when  it  was  opened  to  the  public.  The  Bishop's  Park 
is  the  long,  narrow  strip  of  land  between  the  moat  and 
the  river.  Flowering  shrubs  on  the  bank  of  the  moat, 
and  rows  of  cut  plane  trees  by  the  river,  have  been 
planted.  There  are  two  long  asphalt  paths,  and  some 
bedding  out  and  rock  gardening  between  the  grass 
lawns.  It  is  now  kept  in  order  by  the  Borough  of 
Fulham,  which  reminds  the  public  of  the  fact  by  the 
notices  stuck  up :  "  Ratepayers,  protect  your  property." 
The  Elm  Avenue  was  part  of  Compton's  design,  and 
many  very  fine  trees  known  to  be  his  remain  to  this 
day.  During  the  long  duration  of  his  episcopate — 1675 
to  1 7 14 — he  had  time  to  see  his  plants  grow  and  flourish. 
His  gardening  achievements  were  much  appreciated  in  his 
own  day.  John  Evelyn,  a  great  authority  on  horticul- 
tural matters,  was  often  at  Fulham.  He  notes  in  his 
Diary  on  Oct.  11,  1681  :  "To  Fulham  to  visit  the 
Bishop  of  London,  in  whose  garden  I  first  saw  the  Sedum 
arborescens  in  flower,  which  was  exceedingly  beautiful." 
Richard  Bradley,  a  well-known  gardener,  in  his  book 
published  in  17 17,  quotes  many  of  the  plants  at  Ful- 
ham as  examples  in  his  pages.  With  regard  to  the 
passion  flower,  his  notice  is  interesting,  as  it  gives  the 


3IO     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

name  of  Bishop  Compton's  gardener.  "  That  [the 
passion  flower]  may  bear  fruit,"  he  writes,  "  we  must 
Plant  it  in  very  moist  and  cool  places,  where  it  may  be 
continually  fed  with  Water ;  this  I  had  from  the  Curious 
Mr.  Adam  Holt,  Gardener  to  the  late  Bishop  of 
London,  who  shew'd  me  a  letter  from  the  West  Indies, 
from  whence  I  learnt  it  was  an  Inhabitant  of  Swampy 
Places."  Bradley  had  seen  the  pistachio  fruiting  against 
a  wall  at  Fulham,  and  he  thought  he  had  also  noticed  an 
olive  flourishing  there.  From  time  to  time  there  have  been 
special  notices  of  the  trees  round  the  Bishop's  palace.  Sir 
William  Watson  wrote  a  paper  on  them  for  the  Royal 
Society,  in  which  he  gives  a  list  of  thirty-seven  special 
trees,  many  of  them  the  finest  of  their  kind  in  England. 
"  For  exemplification  of  this  I  would,"  he  says,  "  recom- 
mend to  the  curious  observer  the  black  Virginian  walnut 
tree,  the  cluster  pine,  the  honey  locust,  the  pseudo- 
acacia,  the  ash  maple,  &c.,  now  remaining  at  Fulham." 
Many  of  the  later  bishops  have  paid  great  attention  to 
the  grounds.  Bishop  Porteous  (1787-1809)  who  planted 
cedars;  Howley  (1813-1828),  and  especially  Blomfield 
(i 828-1 856),  all  took  delight  in  the  Garden.  Bishop 
Blomfield  planted  a  deciduous  cypress  and  the  ailanthus, 
which  now  measures  10  feet  4  inches  at  4  feet  from  the 
ground,  curiously  exactly  the  same  girth  as  the  one  at 
Broom  House  close  by.  In  1865,  Bishop  Tait  had  the 
old  trees  measured,  and  there  are  later  measurements  of 
some  of  the  finest.  The  cork  tree  was  13  feet  9  inches, 
and  although  sadly  shattered,  part  of  this  magnificent  old 
tree,  with  its  thick  cork  bark,  still  holds  its  own.  The 
great  black  walnut  or  hickory  has  not  been  so  fortunate, 
and  died  about  ten  years  ago,  and  only  a  venerable 
stump  is  left ;  but  a  good  specimen  still  stands  in  the 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS  311 

meadow.  The  great  tree  in  1865  measured  15  feet 
5  inches;  in  1894,  17  feet  3  inches.  The  tulip  tree  died 
about  the  same  time  as  the  hickory.  The  honey  locust 
[Gleditschia  triacanthos)^  one  of  Bishop  Compton's  trees, 
only  died  last  year,  the  large  white  elm  in  1904,  and, 
sad  to  say,  the  flowering  ash  {Fraxinus  ornus)  was  blown 
down  in  March  1907.  The  Wych  elm  and  a  beautiful 
walnut  still  flourish,  and  also  the  variety  of  Turkey  oak 
{Quercus  cerris  lucumheana  or  fulhamensis),  so  in  spite  of 
many  disasters  Fulham  Palace  still  can  show  some  fine  trees. 

Chelsea  still  abounds  in  gardens.  There  are  the 
modern  plots  along  the  Embankment,  laid  out  with 
the  wriggling  path  that  municipal  authorities  seem  to 
deem  necessary  nowadays.  The  private  gardens  in  front 
of  some  of  the  houses  are  an  older  institution,  and  some 
can  boast  of  delightful  patches  of  old  gardens  in  their  rear 
also.  Behind  Lindsay  House  the  Moravian  burial-ground 
is  hidden  away,  and  part  of  its  wall  may  be  the  actual  wall 
of  Sir  Thomas  More's  garden.  There  are  the  remains  of 
elms  and  several  good  mulberry  trees.  The  large  mulberry 
on  the  Embankment  near  looks  as  if  it  once  might  have 
been  in  the  garden  too.  Chelsea  further  possesses  one  of 
the  first  botanical  gardens  in  England,  the  Duke  of  York's 
School  with  large  grass  area  and  fine  elm  trees,  and  the 
spacious  grounds  that  surround  the  Hospital.  Much 
of  the  old  stately  simplicity  still  clings  to  these  latter, 
although  last  century  saw  many  variations  in  their  plan. 

The  site  was  occupied  by  King  James's  College, 
founded  by  Matthew  Sutcliffe,  Dean  of  Exeter,  in  16 10, 
which,  in  spite  of  the  King's  patronage  and  the  interest 
of  Prince  Henry,  v/as  a  failure.  It  added  to,  rather 
than  allayed,  religious  discussion,  and  was  familiarly 
known    as    "  Controversy   College."     The  ground   was. 


312     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

in  1669,  given  to  the  Royal  Society,  but  the  buildings 
were  too  dilapidated  for  them  to  use.  To  Sir  Stephen 
Fox  is  probably  due  the  idea  of  founding  a  hospital 
for  disabled  soldiers,  although  tradition  also  attributes 
some  of  the  credit  to  Nell  Gwynn,  who  is  said  to 
have  appealed  to  Charles  II.  on  their  behalf.  The  King 
laid  the  foundation-stone,  on  the  12th  of  March  1682, 
of  the  building  designed  by  Wren.  John  Evelyn,  as 
one  of  the  Council  of  the  Royal  Society,  had  been 
consulted  when  the  idea  was  first  mooted,  and  in 
January  1682  he  notes  in  his  Diary  a  talk  on  the 
subject  with  Sir  Stephen  Fox,  who  asked  for  Evelyn's 
assistance  with  regard  to  the  staff  and  management. 
So  in  Sir  Stephen's  study,  as  Evelyn  writes,  "We 
arranged  the  governor,  chaplain,  steward,  housekeeper, 
chirurgeon,  cook,  butler,  gardener,  porter,  and  other 
officers,  with  their  several  salaries  and  entertainments." 
This  list  of  officials  shows  the  importance  of  the  Garden 
from  the  first — and  no  wonder,  as  the  grounds  occupied 
some  twenty-six  acres.  A  survey  made  in  1702  shows 
how  this  space  was  divided.  The  largest  part,  lying 
to  the  north  of  the  Hospital,  is  what  is  now  known 
as  *'  Burton's  Court,"  and  is  used  as  a  recreation  ground 
for  the  soldiers  in  the  barracks  near,  and  a  cricket 
ground  for  the  brigade  of  Guards.  The  avenue  down 
the  central  walk,  "  planted  with  limes  and  chestnuts," 
was  included  in  the  early  design,  and  "  Royal  Avenue  " 
is  a  continuation  of  it.  Queen  Anne  having,  it  is  said, 
intended  to  carry  it  on  to  Kensington.  This  part, 
called  "  the  great  court  north  of  the  buildings,"  occupied 
over  thirteen  acres.  The  rest  was  divided  into  grass 
plots  between  the  quadrangle  courts  and  canals,  nearly 
three  acres;  the  "garden  on   the  east,    now  the  gover- 


STATUE  OF  CHARLES  IL,  CHELSEA  HOSPITAL 


N    PARKS    ef   GARDENS 


u..:i^K^ 


of  founding  a 

gh  tradition  also  atti 

'    i^eii    Gwynn,   who    is   saiu     lu 

arles  II.  on  their  behalf.     The  King 

dation-stone,  on  the  i2tKof  March  1682, 

tiiding  designed  by  Wren.     John    Evelyn,   as 

r    the   Council   of  the    Royal    Society,    had   been 

......jited    when    the    u^ep.    was    first    mooted,    and    in 

January    1682   he   n  his   Diary   a    talk    on    the 

subject  with  vho  asked   for  Evelyn's 

assist:;!  "         '  "t. 

So     i ! 

arran^, 

chirurgec 

o^ 

from  i  .nds  occupied 

some  twenty-six  acri.  survey  made  in  1702  shows 

how  this  space  was   divided.     The    largest   part,  lying 
to  the   north 
as  "  Biirt-nn'^ 


-^    *!,.,     T^T  ^.. 


w  known 
'1  ground 


'    is  wha'    •- 
'  as  a  ^ 

f  Ics   near,   and  'a    cricket 

g  ide  of  nue  down 

t)  ''    '  chestnuts," 

\v  .    >yal  Avenue  " 

is  aving,  it  is  said, 

intCH'  m.       This    part, 

called  '     '^s,*'  occupied 

JDA^'HZOH  A32JHHD  »JI  ZHJ^AHD  H0^TO*PAarff^ 

plots  betwce  ladrarij^  s  and  canals,  nearly 

three  acres;  the  "garden  on  the  east,   now  the  gover- 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS  313 

nor's,"  about  two  acres ;  a  kitchen-garden  towards  the 
river  of  more  than  three  acres,  two  L-shaped  canals 
with  wide  walks  between,  an  "  apothecary's  garden " 
for  medicinal  herbs,  bleaching  yards,  and  the  church- 
yard. The  front  garden,  with  its  canals  in  Dutch 
style,  ended  in  a  terrace  along  the  river.  This  garden 
was  subject  to  much  abuse  by  the  landscape  school 
of  designers.  "It  was  laid  out,"  wrote  one  in  1805, 
"  when  the  art  of  landscape  gardening  was  at  its 
lowest  pitch ;  the  principal  absurdity  in  the  garden 
is  cutting  two  insignificant  canals  as  ornaments,  whilst 
one  side  of  the  garden  is  bounded  by  the  noble  stream 
of  the  Thames."  The  writer  adds  that  the  gardens 
were  open  on  Sundays  in  summer,  and  were  much 
frequented  as  a  public  promenade.  These  severely- 
criticised  canals  were  filled  up  in  the  middle  of  last 
century,  and  the  space  is  now  grass  with  avenues  on 
either  side,  and  a  central  obelisk,  a  monument  to  our 
soldiers  who  fell  in  the  battle  of  Chillianwallah. 

The  statue  of  Charles  II.  as  a  Roman  emperor,  by 
Gibbons,  in  the  centre  of  the  court,  was  given  by  Tobias 
Rustat.  The  view  over  the  simple,  spacious  garden 
from  this  central  court,  to  the  long  balustrade  v/ith 
steps  down  to  the  lower  terrace,  is  very  satisfying,  and 
in  keeping  with  the  stately  architecture.  The  Governor's 
house  has  its  own  special  garden,  a  fine,  wide  terrace 
and  large,  straight  beds,  and  a  delightful  red-brick  wall 
covered  with  trailing  plants  and  fine  iron  gateway.  The 
old  pensioners,  in  their  long  coats  and  weather-beaten 
faces,  enjoying  their  "  peace  pipe "  and  their  well- 
earned  repose,  add  very  greatly  to  the  picturesque 
efl?ect  of  the  Garden,  and  all  its  surroundings.  The 
churchyard,    clearly    seen    through    the    railings    along 


314     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

Queen's  Road  from  Chelsea  Barracks,  has  an  air  of 
dignified  repose.  It  has  been  closed  since  1854.  The 
first  soldier  buried  there  in  1692,  Simon  Box,  had 
served  four  kings :    Charles   I.,   Charles   II.,   James   II., 


^T'-  ts  ^ 


i^*#^ 


^"■^ 


III!'.   "\!l35 


'mm 


li«iimLi3nuiiit{i!;£iUlilSli9 


i;^r' 


^f;^ 


,i)ii  lU.■#lMl^i;,^lf||lllj||jJif^ij•^[;^i^^^ 

'Xy  ■  Garden  Gate,  Chelsea  Hospital 

and  William  III.  The  tombs  are  much  worn  with  age, 
and  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  find  some  of  those 
known  to  have  been  laid  to  rest  there.  Among  them 
are  two  women  who  had  served  as  privates ;  one  of 
them,  who  died  in  1739,  Christian  Davies  or  "Mother 
Ross,"  had  served  in  Marlborough's    campaigns.      The 


HISTORICAL    GARDENS  315 

extraordinary  number  of  centenarians  this  small  burying- 
ground  contains  is  astounding.  William  Hisland  surely 
beats  the  record,  as  he  was  married  when  he  was  over 
a  hundred  !  He  was  born  in  August  1620,  and  died 
in  February  1732.  Another  veteran  of  112  died  five 
years  later,  while  another,  Robert  Comming,  who  was 
buried  in  1767,  was  115,  and  before  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century  three  others,  aged  respectively  102, 
III,  and  107,  were  interred.  The  eldest  of  these 
three,  who  died  in  1772,  had  fought  in  the  Battle  of 
the  Boyne!  It  certainly  speaks  well  for  the  care  and 
attention  bestowed  on  them  in  the  Hospital. 

The  garden  to  the  east  of  the  buildings  was   part 
of  the  original  ground,  but  has  had  a  career  and  history 
of  its  own.     It  was  the  famous  Ranelagh  Gardens,  which 
enchanted  the  beaux  and   fair   ladies  of  the  eighteenth 
century.     From  1742  to  1803  its  glories  lasted.     Rane- 
lagh House  was  built  by  the  Earl  of  that  name,  who 
was  Paymaster  to  the  Forces  in  the  reign  of  James  II., 
a  clever,  unscrupulous  person,  who  amassed  considerable 
wealth  in  the  course  of  his  office-work.      He   obtained 
a  grant  of  the  land  from  Chelsea  Hospital,  built  a  house 
and  laid  out  a  garden,  where  the   "  plots,  borders,  and 
walks  "  were  "  curiously  kept,  and  elegantly  designed." 
After  passing  through  the  hands  of  his  daughter,  Lady 
Catherine  Jones,   the   property  was   sold   to    Swift   and 
Timbrell,  who  leased  it  to  Lacey,  the  patentee  of  Drury 
Lane  Theatre.     The  idea  was  to  turn  it  into  a  winter 
Vauxhall.       Eventually    it    was    open    from    Easter    till 
the  end  of  the  summer,  and  effectually  outshone  Vaux- 
hall.     Walpole,  in   a  letter  two  days  after  it  was  first 
opened,  did  not  think  much  of  it.     "  I  was  there,  last 
night,  but  did   not  find  the  joy  of  it.     Vauxhall   is   a 


3i6     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

little  better,  for  the  garden  is  pleasanter,  and  one  goes 
to  it  by  water."  Two  years  later  he  wrote  in  a  very 
different  strain.  "  Every  night  constantly  I  go  to 
Ranelagh,  which  has  totally  beat  Vauxhall.  Nobody 
goes  anywhere  else — everybody  goes  there.  My  Lord 
Chesterfield  is  so  fond  of  it,  that  he  says  he  has 
ordered  all  his  letters  to  be  directed  thither."  Fanny 
Burney,  in  "  Evelina,"  to  bring  out  the  character  of 
the  "  surly,  vulgar,  and  disagreeable  man,"  makes  him 
abuse  the  place  which  fascinated  polite  society.  "There's 
your  famous  Ranelagh,  that  you  make  such  a  fuss 
about ;  why,  what  a  dull  place  is  that ! "  The  chief 
amusement  was  walking  about  and  looking  at  each 
other,  as  the  poem  by  Bloomfield  puts  it — 

"We  had  seen  every  soul  that  was  in  it, 
Then  we  went  round  and  saw  them  again." 

The  great  attraction  was  the  Rotunda,  supposed  to 
be  like  the  Pantheon  at  Rome.  The  outside  diameter 
was  185  feet.  An  arcade  ran  all  round,  and  above  it  a 
gallery,  with  steps  up  to  it  through  four  Doric  porticos. 
Over  the  gallery  were  sixty  windows,  and  the  whole  was 
surmounted  by  a  slate  roof.  In  the  middle,  supporting 
the  roof,  was  a  huge  fireplace,  on  the  space  at  first 
occupied  by  the  orchestra.  "  Round  the  Rotunda," 
inside,  were  *'  47  boxes  .  .  .  with  a  table  and  cloth 
spread  in  each ;  in  these  the  company "  were  "  regaled, 
without  any  further  expense,  with  tea  and  coffee."  The 
whole  was  adorned  with  looking-glasses  and  paintings, 
imitation  marble,  stucco,  and  gilding.  Dr.  Arne  wrote 
music  for  the  special  performances  ;  breakfasts  were  at 
one  time  the  rage,  and  at  another  masquerades  were  the 
order    of   the    day ;    while   fireworks    and    illuminations 


HISTORICAL    GARDENS  317 

amused  the  company  at  intervals,  all  through  the  years 
in  which  Ranelagh  was  prosperous. 

"  There  thousands  of  gay  lamps  aspir'd 
To  the  tops  of  the  trees  and  beyond  ; 
And,  what  was  most  hugely  admired, 
They  looked  upside-down  in  a  pond. 
The  blaze  scarce  an  eagle  could  bear 
And  an  owl  had  most  surely  been  slain ; 
We  returned  to  the  circle,  and  then — 
And  then  we  went  round  it  again." 

One  of  the  last  entertainments  at  Ranelagh  was  the 
Installation  Ball  of  the  Knights  of  the  Bath  in  1 803  ; 
and  a  few  years  afterwards  all  trace  of  Ranelagh  House, 
the  Rotunda,  and  even  the  Garden  was  gone.  The 
ground  reverted  to  Chelsea  Hospital,  and  not  a  vestige 
of  the  former  glories  is  left.  The  pleasant  shady  walks 
and  undulating  lawns  on  the  site,  bear  no  resemblance 
to  the  lines  of  the  former  gardens,  and  only  some  of  the 
older  trees  can  have  been  there  when  Lord  Chesterfield 
and  Walpole  were  paying  it  daily  visits. 

The  most  important  of  Chelsea  gardens,  and  one  of 
the  most  interesting  in  England,  is  the  Physic  Garden, 
which  lies  between  the  Embankment  and  Queen's  Road, 
now  called  Royal  Hospital  Road.  The  Garden,  both 
horticulturally,  botanically,  and  historically,  has  claims 
on  every  Londoner.  England  was  much  behind  the 
rest  of  Europe  in  starting  botanic  gardens.  That  of 
Padua,  begun  in  1545,  was  the  first  on  the  Continent, 
and  it  was  nearly  a  hundred  years  later  before  any 
were  attempted  in  this  country.  Oxford  led  the  way 
in  1632,  and  the  Chelsea  one  followed  in  1673,  Its 
formation  was  due  to  the  Apothecaries'  Company,  and 
its  first  object  the   study  of  medicinal  herbs.     In  those 


3i8     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

days  botany  and  medicine  were  closely  entwined.  Every 
botanical  and  horticultural  work  was  occupied  with  the 
virtues  and  properties  of  plants,  far  more  than  their 
structural  peculiarities,  or  their  beauties  of  form  or 
growth.  Gerard,  Johnson,  and  less  well-known  botanists, 
were  herbalists  and  apothecaries,  so  it  was  only  natural 
that  the  Worshipful  Company  of  Apothecaries  should 
be  the  founders  of  a  garden.  It  was  not  the  first  of  its 
kind  in  London,  but  it  ranks  now  as  the  second  oldest 
in  England,  as  its  predecessors  in  London,  such  as 
Gerard's  Garden  in  Holborn,  and  the  Tradescants  in 
Lambeth,  have  long  since  passed  away.  It  probably, 
moreover,  embodies  the  earlier  one  at  Westminster, 
which  was  under  the  care  of  Hugh  Morgan,  said  by  his 
contemporaries  to  be  a  very  skilful  botanist.  The  West- 
minster Garden  seems  to  have  been  still  flourishing  when 
the  Apothecaries  started  theirs  in  Chelsea,  but  three  years 
later  it  was  bought  by  them,  one  of  the  conditions  of  sale 
being  that  the  plants  might  be  moved  to  Chelsea.  The 
land  in  Chelsea  was  leased  from  Lord  Cheyne.  By  the 
time  the  lease  had  expired.  Sir  Hans  Sloane  was  owner  of 
the  property,  having  purchased  it  from  Lord  Cheyne 
in  17 12,  He  granted  the  land  to  the  Apothecaries' 
Company  on  a  yearly  rent  of  ^5,  on  condition  that  it 
should  always  be  maintained  as  a  Physic  Garden,  and 
certain  other  conditions,  such  as  supplying  a  number 
of  specimens  to  the  Royal  Society.  The  deed  of  gift 
further  provided  that  should  the  Apothecaries  not  con- 
tinue to  fulfil  their  obligation,  the  Garden  should  be  held 
in  trust  by  the  Royal  Society,  and  should  they  not  wish 
to  take  it  over,  by  the  College  of  Physicians.  It  was 
acting  in  conformity  with  these  wishes,  that,  when  the 
Apothecaries  ceased  to  desire  to  maintain  it,  the  Charity 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS  319 

Commissioners,  in  1898,  established  a  scheme  for  the 
management  of  the  Garden :  ;r8oo  towards  its  main- 
tenance was  provided  by  the  London  Parochial  Charities, 
who  became  trustees  of  the  Garden,  and  £iS^  ^Y  ^^^ 
Treasury.  A  committee  was  appointed  to  manage  the 
Garden,  and  see  that  it  fulfilled  the  founder's  in- 
tentions. The  original  societies  mentioned  by  Sir  Hans 
Sloane,  the  Treasury,  the  London  County  Council, 
and  other  modern  bodies  each  nominate  one  represen- 
tative on  the  board  of  management,  and  the  trustees 
appoint  nine.  It  has  been  worked  under  this  scheme 
since  May  1899.  The  buildings  and  green-houses, 
which  were  tumbling  down,  have  been  rebuilt,  and  now 
include  up-to-date  conveniences  for  growing  and  rearing 
plants,  and  a  well-fitted  laboratory  and  lecture  room. 
The  Garden  is  certainly  now  fulfilling  the  purposes 
for  which  it  was  founded.  It  has  proved  to  be  of  the 
greatest  use  to  the  students  of  the  Royal  College  of 
Science,  and  members  of  schools  and  polytechnics.  Cut 
specimens,  for  demonstration  at  lectures,  are  sent  out  in 
quantities  during  the  summer,  often  as  many  as  750  in  a 
day.  Students  and  teachers  have  admission  to  the  Garden, 
and  the  numbers  who  come  (nearly  3000  is  the  average 
annual  attendance)  show  it  is  appreciated.  Lectures  on  ad- 
vanced botany  have  been  attended  by  an  average  of  seventy 
students,  and  research  experiments  are  carried  on  in  the 
laboratory.  Seeds  are  exchanged  with  botanical  gardens 
all  over  the  world,  to  the  extent  of  over  a  thousand 
packets  in  a  year.  In  this  it  is  carrying  on  a  very  early 
tradition,  as  seeds  were  exchanged  with  the  University  of 
Leyden  in  1682,  after  Dr.  Herman,  from  that  city,  had 
visited  Chelsea. 

Even  in  its  early  days  the  Apothecaries  found  the 


320     LONDON    PARKS    <^    GARDENS 

Garden  expensive  to  keep  up.  When  in  1685  it  cost 
them  ^130,  besides  the  Curator's  salary,  they  made  an 
arrangement,  by  which  they  paid  him  ^/^loo  a  year,  out 
of  which  he  had  to  keep  up  the  Garden,  and  was  allowed 
to  sell  the  plants.  Watt  was  the  first  Curator  under  this 
new  plan,  and  Doody,  a  botanist  of  some  standing  who 
succeeded  him,  was  under  the  same  conditions.  Philip 
Miller  was  appointed  Curator,  after  the  land  had  been 
given  by  Sir  Hans  Sloane,  and  other  well-known  men 
have  been  connected  with  it.  After  1724,  besides  the 
Curator,  a  "  Praefectus  Horti,"  or  Director,  was  appointed 
to  visit  and  inspect  the  Garden,  and  report  on  its  con- 
dition to  the  Company.  Sometimes  there  was  a  little 
rivalry  between  the  two,  and  at  one  time  this  occasioned 
two  lists  of  the  plants  contained  in  the  Garden  being 
published,  one  by  Isaac  Rand,  the  other  by  Philip  Miller. 
Among  the  famous  names  in  botany  or  horticulture  con- 
nected with  the  Garden  are  Dr.  Dale,  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Blackwell,  James  Sherard  and  his  brother  William, 
Joseph  Millar,  William  Curtis,  Forsyth,  Robert  Fortune 
and  Dr.  Lindley,  and  Nathaniel  Ward,  the  inventor  of 
"  Wardian  Cases."  But  of  all  the  Curators,  Philip 
Miller  was  one  of  the  most  eminent,  and  did  most 
for  the  Garden.  His  Dictionary  was  for  years  the 
standard  work  on  horticulture,  and  went  through 
numerous  editions  and  translations.  He  published  a 
catalogue  of  plants  in  the  Physic  Garden  in  1730. 
The  last  "  Prasfectus  Horti "  was  Lindley,  who  held 
the  office  from  1835  to  1853.  During  that  time  the 
expenses  were  getting  too  heavy  for  the  Society,  and 
after  his  death  no  successor  was  appointed.  Thomas 
Moore,  who  was  co-editor  with  Lindley  of  the  well- 
known   "  Treasury   of  Botany,"  and   author   of   several 


HISTORICAL    GARDENS  321 

works  on  British  ferns,  continued  alone  as  Curator.  He 
held  the  office  from  1848  to  1887.  During  his  later  years 
the  Garden  gradually  declined  for  want  of  funds,  and 
after  his  death  no  new  appointment  was  made  by  the 
Apothecaries,  and  a  labourer  looked  after  the  grounds. 
With  the  advent  of  the  new  authority  and  great  expan- 
sion of  work,  the  office  was  once  more  bestowed  on  a 
competent  man,  William  Hales,  the  present  Curator,  who 
ably  maintains  the  old  traditions  of  the  garden. 

One  of  the  institutions  of  early  days  which  has  had 
to  be  discontinued  was  the  "  herborising."  Expeditions 
in  search  of  herbs  were  undertaken  by  the  students,  in 
company  of  their  teacher,  in  the  neighbourhood.  After 
1834,  owing  to  the  spread  of  London,  these  excursions 
had  to  be  abandoned. 

The  famous  cedars  were  planted  in  Watt's  time,  and 
from  contemporary  references  to  them,  there  seems  no 
doubt  that  they  were  the  first  to  be  grown  in  England. 
John  Evelyn  in  his  "  Sylva "  in  1663,  writing  of  the 
cedar,  says,  "Why  should  it  not  thrive  in  Old  England?" 
and  Ray  is  astonished  in  1684  to  see  the  young  trees 
flourishing  at  Chelsea  without  protection.  They  are 
shown  in  a  plan  of  the  Garden  in  1753  (the  year  of  Sir 
Hans  Sloane's  death)  at  the  four  corners  of  a  pond, 
which  no  longer  remains  in  the  same  position.  Eighteen 
years  later  the  two  furthest  from  the  river  were  cut 
down  (1771)'  "  b^^^g  ^"  ^  decayed  state  "  (and  no  wonder) 
from  the  rough  usage  they  had  been  subjected  to.  The 
timber,  133!  feet,  was  sold  at  2s.  8d.  a  foot,  and,  together 
with  the  branches,  the  trees  fetched  ^23,  9s.  8d.  The 
two  specimens  nearest  the  river  were  for  nearly  a  hundred 
years  a  conspicuous  object,  although  much  injured  by 
snow  in    1809.     By   1871,  only  one  remained,  and,  in  a 

X 


322     LONDON    PARKS    <^    GARDENS 

report  of  the  Garden  seven  years  later,  it  was  said  to  be 
in  a  "dying  condition."  At  the  time  the  new  Manage- 
ment Committee  came  into  office,  that  one  was  quite 
dead.  They  left  the  tree  standing  until  the  fungi  on  it 
became  a  danger  to  the  rest  of  the  trees. in  the  Garden, 
when  most  reluctantly  it  was  felled  in  March  1904,  all 
the  sound  parts  of  the  timber  being  carefully  preserved. 
Miller  gives  a  good  account  of  them  in  his  time.  "  The 
four  trees,"  he  writes,  "  (which  as  I  have  been  credibly 
informed)  were  planted  there  in  the  year  1683,  and  at 
that  time  were  not  above  three  feet  high  ;  two  of  which 
Trees  are  at  this  time  (viz.  1757)  upwards  of  eleven 
feet  and  a  Half  in  girt,  at  two  Feet  above  ground,  and 
thereby  afford  a  goodly  shade  in  the  hotest  Season  of  the 
Year."  He  goes  on  to  point  out  that  they  were  planted 
so  near  the  pond,  which  was  bricked  up  to  within  two 
feet  of  them,  that  the  roots  could  not  spread  on  one 
side.  Whether  the  water  was  good  for  them  he  is  not 
sure,  but  feels  certain  it  was  injurious  to  cramp  the 
roots.  The  two  specimens  nearest  the  green-house  had 
had  some  of  their  branches  lopped  off,  to  prevent  their 
shading  the  grass,  and  suffered  in  consequence.  Though 
one  remained  for  nearly  150  years  after  Miller  gave  these 
measurements,  it  was  only  13  feet  round  the  trunk 
at  the  base  when  it  was  felled,  and  was  so  completely 
rotten  it  must  soon  have  fallen.  Miller  records  that 
three  of  the  trees  began  producing  cones  about  1732, 
and  that  in  his  time  the  seeds  ripened,  and  germinated 
freely,  so  it  is  probable  that  many  plants  in  England  are 
descendants  of  the  Chelsea  trees.  That  these  were 
actually  the  first  to  be  grown  in  England  there  is  not 
much  doubt.  Evelyn  regrets  in  his  "  Sylva  "  the  absence 
of  the  cedars  in  England.     The  only  trees  which  have 


HISTORICAL    GARDENS  323 

put  forth  rival  claims  to  the  Chelsea  ones  are  those  of 
Bretby  and  Enfield.  The  Bretby  one  is  undoubtedly 
very  old,  but  there  is  no  early  reference  to  it  in  histories 
which  mention  the  Enfield  trees,  and  the  famous  one  at 
Hendon,  traditionally  planted  by  Queen  Elizabeth  and 
blown  down  in  1779,  and  a  few  others  ;  and  there  is  no 
contemporary  evidence  of  the  date  of  its  planting  to 
warrant  the  assumption  that  it  was  before  1683.  The 
Enfield  tree  in  the  garden  of  Robert  Uvedale  was  said,  in 
1 823,  by  Henry  Phillips,  to  be  about  156  years  old,  there- 
fore older  than  the  Chelsea  ones  by  some  six  years ;  but 
there  is  no  evidence  to  corroborate  this.  When  Gibson 
describes  the  Garden  in  1691,  he  makes  no  mention  of  it, 
and  it  seems  unUkely  he  would  have  omitted  such  an 
important  tree.  There  exists  much  correspondence  with 
Uvedale  and  botanists  of  his  time,  but  in  none  of  the 
letters  or  early  notices  is  the  cedar  mentioned  before 
Ray's  note  of  the  Chelsea  trees,  or  even  referred  to  as 
the  first  planted  in  England,  so  it  seems  the  Chelsea 
trees'  claim  to  be  the  first  is  fairly  established. 

The  oriental  plane,  which  fell  just  as  it  was  going  to  be 
taken  down  in  1904,  was  one  of  the  finest  in  London, 
planted  by  Philip  Miller,  and  is  quoted  by  Loudon,  in 
1837,  as  then  £15  feet  high.  Some  of  the  other  famous 
trees  have  also  died,  such  as  the  cork  trees  and  paper 
mulberries ;  but  some  have  been  more  fortunate,  and  are 
among  the  oldest  of  their  kind  in  England.  The  Koel- 
reuteria  paniculata  is  probably  the  finest  in  this  country, 
and  the  other  old  trees  which  were  noted  as  being  par- 
ticularly fine  specimens  in  18 13  or  1820,  and  which 
are  still  alive,  are  Diospyros  Virginiana^  the  Persimmon 
or  Virginian  date  plum,  the  Quercus  ilex,  black  walnut, 
mulberry,  and  Styrax  officinale.     Rhus  juglandifolia^  which 


324     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

grows  by  the  wall,  was  probably  planted  when  intro- 
duced from  Nepaul  in  1823.  The  wistaria  and  pome- 
granate are  old  and  still  flourishing,  and  young  plants 
of  the  trees  once  famous  in  the  Garden  are  doing 
well.  The  amount  of  attention  the  novelties  in  the 
Physic  Garden  used  to  attract  is  well  shown  by  the 
spurious  translation  of  De  Sorbiere's  travels.  The  little 
book,  published  in  1698,  purported  to  be  a  translation 
of  De  Sorbiere,  but  was  really  an  original  skit.  The 
writer  pretends  De  Sorbiere  visited  the  Garden,  and  re- 
ported a  delightful  series  of  imaginary  flowers.  "  I  was 
at  Chelsey,  where  I  took  particular  notice  of  the  plants 
in  the  Green  House  at  that  time,  as  Urtica  male  oleus 
Japoni^y  the  stinking  nettle  of  Japan  ;  Goosberia  sterelis 
Armenia^  the  Armenian  gooseberry  bush  that  bears  no 
fruit  (this  had  been  potted  thirty  years)  ;  Bramhelia  fruc- 
tificans  Laplandia^  or  the  Blooming  Bramble  of  Lapland  ; 
with  a  hundred  other  curious  plants,  and  a  particular 
Collection  of  Briars  and  Thorns,  which  were  some  part 
of  the  curse  of  the  Creation."  That  it  was  worth  while 
laughing  at  the  Garden  in  a  popular  skit,  shows  what 
an  important  position  it  had  taken.  The  green-houses 
were  among  the  earliest  attempted,  and  many  scientific 
visitors  describe  their  plans  and  arrangements.  They 
were  rebuilt  at  great  cost  in  1732.  The  statue  to  Sir 
Hans  Sloane,  by  Michael  Rysbrach,  stood  in  a  niche  in 
the  green-house  wall.  It  was  moved  to  the  centre  of  the 
Garden  in  175 1,  where  it  still  stands.  The  Garden  was 
honoured  by  a  visit  from  the  great  Linnaeus  in  1736,  and 
he  noted  in  his  diary  :  "  Miller  of  Chelsea  permitted  me 
to  collect  many  plants  in  the  Garden,  and  gave  me  several 
dried  specimens  collected  in  South  America."  Among 
the  valuable  bequests  to  the  Garden  were  collections  of 


^24  MS 

-  ,      as  probably  planted   when  intro- 
aul  in   1823.     T^^  wistaria  and  pome- 
md  still  flourishing,  and  young  plants 
ce    famous    in    the    Garden    are   doing 
.  .  .^unt   of  attention  the  novelties   in    the 
tarden    used    to   attract  is  well  shown  by  the 
lus  translation  of  De  Sorbiere's  travels.     The  little 
DOCK,  published  in  1698,  purported  to  be  a   translation 
of  De  Sorbiere,  hu':    v. as   really   an  original  skit.     The 
writer  pretends  1  visited  the  Garden,  and  re- 

ported a  delic  lowers.     **  I  was 

at  Ch;  '  )f  the  plants 

5*    in   tf  ,-    i>ia/e    oleus 

S     /  'erelis 

f*j    Iruii 

u   '''^■''■' 

»— 1 
CO 

5j    Lollectio:  )rns,  which  were  some  part 

^  of  the  curse  ut  the  Creation."  That  it  was  worth  while 
^  laughing  at  the  Garden  in  a  popular  skit,  shows  what 
W  an  important  position  it  had  taken.  The  green-houses 
W  -re  among  the  earliest  attempted,  and  many  scientific 
(J    V    "  lents.     They 

,.     ot^tue  to  Sir 
stood  in  a  niche  in 
centre  of  the 
C.  The  Garden  was 

houo.  .L  nui>  eus  in  1736,  and 

he  noi  lary :  "  sa  permitted  me 

to  collect  lants  in  the  Garden,  and  gave  me  several 

dried  specimens  collected  in  South  America."     Among 
the  valuable  bequests  to  the  Garden  were  collections  of 


HISTORICAL   GARDENS  325 

dried  plants,  now  in  the  British  Museum  of  Natural 
History,  and  a  library  left  by  Dr.  Dale  in  1739,  on  con- 
dition that  "  suitable  and  proper  conveniences "  were 
made  for  them  at  the  Physic  Garden.  They  should  be 
there  still,  and  the  new  buildings  are  eminently  suited 
for  their  reception  ;  and  their  use  to  students  would  be 
very  great,  now  that  the  Garden  is  well  equipped  for 
supplying  all  the  requirements  for  the  modern  teaching 
of  botany. 

Before  quitting  these  gardens  of  historic  interest, 
there  is  one  which  must  not  be  forgotten,  although  its 
former  charms  have  vanished,  and  it  can  no  longer  claim 
such  botanical  curiosities  as  the  Chelsea  Physic  Garden — 
that  is,  the  remains  of  John  Evelyn's  Garden  of  Sayes 
Court.  The  Garden  is  now  enjoyed  by  numbers  in  that 
crowded  district  of  Deptford,  through  the  kindness  of 
Mr.  Evelyn,  the  descendant  of  the  famous  diarist,  John 
Evelyn,  who  keeps  it  up  as  well  as  opens  it  to  the  public. 
The  Manor  of  Deptford  was  retained  by  the  Crown  in 
James  I.'s  time,  and  Sayes  Court  was  leased  to  Chris- 
topher Browne,  the  grandfather  of  Sir  Richard  Browne, 
whose  only  daughter  and  heiress  John  Evelyn  married. 
After  his  wife  had  succeeded  to  the  property,  and  they 
had  lived  there  some  years  and  made  the  Garden,  John 
Evelyn  purchased  the  freehold  land  from  Charles  II. 
The  delight  he  took  in  his  garden,  how  he  exchanged 
seeds  and  plants,  imported  rare  specimens  from  abroad, 
through  his  many  friends,  and  grew  them  with  success, 
is  well  known.  The  ruthless  way  his  treasures  were 
treated  by  Peter  the  Great  was  a  sore  trial  to  Evelyn. 
The  Czar  amused  himself,  among  other  acts  of  van- 
dalism, by  being  wheeled  about  the  beds  and  hedges 
in  a  wheelbarrow.     The  holly  hedge,  even,  he  partially 


326     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

destroyed.  In  writing  of  the  merits  of  holly  in  his 
"  Sylva,"  Evelyn  says  of  this  one :  "  Is  there  under 
heaven  a  more  glorious  and  refreshing  object  of  the  kind, 
than  an  impregnable  Hedge  a  hundred  and  sixty  feet  in 
length,  and  seven  feet  high,  and  five  in  diameter,  which 
I  can  shew  in  my  poor  Gardens  at  any  time  of  the  year, 
glittering  with  its  armed  and  vernish'd  leaves  ?  the  taller 
Standards  at  orderly  distances  blushing  with  their  natural 
Corall.  It  mocks  at  the  rudest  assaults  of  the  Weather, 
Beasts,  and  Hedgebreakers."  This  hedge  has  long  since 
departed,  but  young  hollies,  planted  in  groups  on  the 
same  part  of  the  Garden,  keep  up  the  old  associations. 
One  wing  of  the  house  is  standing,  and  is  at  present  used 
as  a  school.  The  walled  garden  on  the  south  side  is 
still  there,  and  on  the  north  a  wide  terrace  walk,  with  a 
straight  grass  lawn  with  large  beds,  is  in  keeping  with 
the  old  place.  But  instead  of  the  views  over  the  river, 
and  the  Garden  descending  to  the  water's  edge,  there  is  a 
high  rampart  of  the  buildings  of  the  Foreign  Cattle 
Market,  from  whence  the  sounds  of  lowing  oxen  mingle 
with  the  din  of  streets  which  close  round  the  Garden  on 
the  three  other  sides.  In  spite  of  these  drawbacks,  it  is 
delightful  to  know,  that  the  surviving  portion  of  the  once- 
beautiful  Garden  is  fulfilling  a  want  among  the  poor  in 
a  way  that  would  have  appealed  to  the  generous  and 
kind-hearted  author. 

These  are  some  of  the  chief  gardens  of  historic 
interest,  but  it  by  no  means  exhausts  the  list  of  the 
smaller  ones  rich  in  associations,  green  courts  attached  to 
schools,  almshouses,  hospitals,  or  such-like,  which  are 
hidden  away  in  unexpected  corners  throughout  London. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

PRIVATE   GARDENS 

Even  in  the  stifling  bosom  of  a  toivn 

A  garden,  in  ivhich  nothing  thrives,  has  charms 

That  soothe  the  rich  possessor  ;   ,   .   , 

— CowPER. 


N  writing  of  the  private  gardens  of 
London  it  is  difficult  to  know 
where  to  begin.  There  are  a  few 
large  and  beautiful  gardens,  but 
for  the  most  part  the  smaller  they 
are,  and  the  less  there  is  to  write 
about  them  of  interest  to  the 
general  reader,  the  more  they  are 
of  value  to  the  happy  possessors.  It  is  the  minute 
back-garden,  invaded  by  all  the  cats  of  the  neighbour- 
hood, with  a  few  plants  on  which  an  infinity  of  time 
and  trouble,  care  and  thought,  have  been  expended, 
that  is  the  real  typical  London  garden.  What  a  joy  to 
see  the  patches  of  seeds  come  up  in  the  summer,  and 
with  v/hat  expectation  are  the  buds  on  the  one  lilac 
bush  examined  to  see  if  really  at  last  it  is  going  to 
flower  !  What  pleasure  the  fern  dug  up  on  a  summer 
holiday  gives,  as  it  bravely  uncurls  its  fronds  year  by 
year !  What  delight  is  occasioned  if  the  Virginian 
creeper,  which  covers  the   wall,  grows  more  luxuriantly 

than  those  of  the  houses  on  either  side,  and  what  excite- 

327 


328     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

ment  if  it  really  turns  red  once  in  a  way  in  October, 
instead  of  shrivelling  up  to  an  inglorious  end  !  What 
grief  is  felt  when  the  fuchsia,  purchased  as  a  fitting 
centre-piece  to  the  formal  geranium  bed,  loses  its  buds 
one  by  one  before  they  expand  !  These  and  many 
similar  joys  and  sorrows  are  the  portion  of  those  who 
tend  small  gardens  in  London.  How  fascinating  it  is 
to  look  into  back-gardens  as  the  train  passes  over 
viaducts  out  of  the  heart  of  the  town.  Certainly  the 
differences  in  their  appearance  show  what  skill  and 
devotion  can  accomplish.  Nothing  but  real  love  of 
the  plants,  and  a  tender  solicitude  for  their  welfare,  can 
induce  them  to  exist  in  the  confined  areas  and  stifling 
atmosphere  of  the  average  London  garden.  But  even 
these  inauspicious  surroundings  may  be  brightened  by 
flowers.  When  those  absolutely  ignorant  of  the  require- 
ments of  plant  life  take  to  gardening  in  the  country, 
they  have  Nature  at  hand  to  help  them.  The  sunlight, 
air,  and  good  soil  supplement  their  deficiencies  of  know- 
ledge, and,  though  terribly  handicapped  by  careless 
planting,  unsuitable  situations,  want  of  water,  and  such 
drawbacks,  the  plants  can  struggle  with  success  to  main- 
tain their  natural  beauty.  But  let  the  ignorant  try  in 
town  to  grow  plants,  where  all  the  conditions  militate 
against  them,  instead  of  assisting,  and  the  results  are 
very  different.  For  instance,  many  a  small  back-garden, 
or  even  window  box,  is  planted  year  after  year  with  no 
renewal  of  the  soil.  The  crumbling  mould,  which  is 
either  caked  hard  or  pours  like  dust  from  the  hand,  is 
completely  exhausted,  and  the  poor  plants  are  starved. 
They  should  be  given  plenty  of  what  in  gardeners' 
slang  is  called  "  good  stuff,"  if  they  are  to  grow  in  such 
adverse  conditions.     A  little  of  the  money  expended  on 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  329 

plants  which  dwindle  and  die,  spent  on  manure  or  good 
soil,  would  better  repay  the  would-be  gardener.  Many 
plants  require  a  good  deal  of  water  when  making  their 
growth,  and  if  that  is  denied  them  they  will  not  thrive, 
no  matter  how  great  the  solicitude  for  their  welfare  in 
other  ways.  Washing  the  leaves,  especially  of  ever- 
greens, and  scrubbing  stems  is  also  a  great  help,  as  leaves 
choked  with  dirt  have  no  chance  of  imbibing  the  life- 
giving  properties  necessary  to  the  plant. 

The  back-garden  has  many  enemies  besides  soot  and 
fogs.  Cats  are  one  of  the  greatest  trials,  and  most 
destructive.  Sparrows  also  are  very  mischievous.  They 
will  pick  the  flower-buds  off  trees  just  at  the  critical 
moment.  A  wistaria  climber  laden  with  young  blossoms 
they  will  destroy  in  a  few  days,  just  before  the  purple 
buds  appear.  But,  notwithstanding  all  these  pests 
and  difficulties,  it  is  surprising  how  many  things  will 
not  only  survive,  but  grow  well.  The  task  becomes 
more  and  more  easy  as  the  houses  recede  from  the  City. 
In  St.  John's  Wood,  Bayswater,  or  Earl's  Court,  in 
Camberwell  or  Stoke  Newington,  plants  will  grow  better 
than  in  Bloomsbury  or  Southwark.  But  yet  it  is  possible 
to  grow  many  things  even  in  Whitechapel. 

It  is  impossible  to  prescribe  the  best  plants  for  all 
London  gardens,  as  there  is  such  a  great  difference  in 
soil  and  aspect,  that  what  does  well  in  one  part  will  not 
flourish  in  another.  The  heavy  soil  of  Regent's  Park, 
for  instance,  is  well  suited  to  peonies,  which  do  not  seem 
at  home  in  Chelsea.  On  the  other  hand,  some  of  the 
showy,  hardy  spring  flowers,  such  as  wallflowers  and 
forget-me-nots,  die  off  with  fogs  much  more  quickly 
in  the  Regent's  Park  than  in  other  districts.  Any 
deciduous  tree  or  shrub  thrives  better  than  an  evergreen 


330     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

or  a  conifer  in  any  part  of  London.  The  fresh  growth 
of  clean  leaves  every  year,  by  which  the  plant  absorbs 
much  of  its  nourishment,  must  necessarily  be  better 
for  it  than  dried-up,  blackened  leaves.  Among  flower- 
ing shrubs,  a  great  number  grow  sturdily  in  London. 
Laburnums  of  all  kinds,  thorns  in  many  varieties,  flower 
well ;  lilacs  grow  and  look  fresh  and  green  everywhere, 
but  cannot  be  depended  on  always  to  flower ;  almonds, 
snowy  medlars,  double  cherries,  weigelas  or  diervillas 
succeed  ;  broom,  Forsythias,  acacia,  syringa,  many  kinds 
of  prunus,  ribes,  rose  acacia,  Guelder  rose,  Japanese  red 
peach,  Ke?Tia  japonica^  Hibiscus  Syriacus,  or  Althaea  frutex^ 
are  all  satisfactory,  and  many  more  could  be  mentioned. 
Tucca  gloriosa  will  stand  any  amount  of  smoke,  and 
Aralia  spinosa  does  well  in  many  parts;  and  among 
evergreens,  Arbutus  Andrachne  can  be  recommended. 
Fruit-trees,  pears,  and  apples  are  charming  when  in 
bloom,  and  in  a  large  space,  or  to  cover  a  wall,  figs 
are  valuable. 

Alpines  grow  astonishingly  well,  and  though  a  con- 
siderable percentage  will  die  from  the  alternating  damp 
fogs  and  frost  in  the  winter,  many  will  really  establish 
themselves,  and  be  quite  at  home,  much  nearer  the 
heart  of  London  than  Dulwich,  where  many  have 
been  cultivated.  "I  know  a  bank  whereon  the  wild 
thyme  grows  "  in  London — not  a  green,  mossy  bank, 
but  rather  a  blackened  rockery ;  still  the  slope  is 
really  covered  with  large  patches  of  wild  thyme,  purple 
with  bloom  in  the  summer,  carefully  marked  by  the 
London  County  Council  "  Thymus  seypyUum^^  for  the 
benefit  of  the  inquiring.  Several  of  the  other  thymes, 
which  form  good  carpets,  will  also  grow.  Antennaria 
dioica,  a   British  plant,  forms   a   pretty  silvery   ground- 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  33^ 

work  on  beds  or  rockeries,  and  nothing  seems  to  kill 
it.  Saxifrages  in  great  numbers  are  suitable,  beginnmg 
with  the  well-known  mossy  green  hypnoides,  to  the 
giant  known  as  Megasia  cordifolia,  also  sedums,  semper- 
viviums,  aubrietias,  phloxes,  tiarella,  dianthus  in  variety; 
and  several  other  Alpines  have  succeeded  in  different 
parks  and  gardens,  such  as  Androsace  sarmentosa,  Dryas 
octopetala,  yellow  fumitory,  Cotoneaster  frigida,  the  small 
ivy  Hedera  conglomerata ,  Achillea  tormentosa.  Lychnis 
Haageana^  Linn^a  horealis.  Azalea  procumbens.  Campanula 
garganica,  only  to  mention  some  that  have  been  noticed  ; 
even  edelweiss  has  been  successfully  grown  in  the  centre 

of  London. 

A  few  annuals  will  make  a  good  show,  and  nothing 
is  better  in  a  window-box  or  really  dingy  corner  than 
Virginian  stock  ;  but,  as  a  rule,  it  repays  trouble  best 
to  rear  perennials.  Seedling  wallflowers,  sweet  Williams 
and  Canterbury  bells,  and  such  like,  make  a  border 
bright.  The  great  secret  of  success  in  growing  annuals 
is  to  thin  them  out  well ;  the  patches  of  seedlings  are 
too  often  left  far  too  much  overcrowded.  This 
"  thinning  "  is  even  more  important  than  good  soil  and 
careful  watering.  Marigolds  thrive  best  of  all,  and 
will  often  seed  themselves,  but  a  few  other  annuals 
can  be  safely  recommended. 

Candytuft.  lonopsidium  acaule  (violet  cress). 

Catchfly      (Silene      pendula  and      Larkspur  (annual). 

armeria).                 '  Love-in-a-mist  (Nigella). 
Erysinum  perofskianum  (a  kind  of     Nasturtiums. 

Treacle  mustard).  Phlox  drummondi. 

Eschscholzia.  Snapdragon  (Antirrhinum). 

Flax  (scarlet).  Toadflax  (Linaria). 
Godetias. 


332     LONDON    PARKS   &    GARDENS 

Very  many  things  may  succeed  well  that  are  not 
specially  noted  here,  but  the  following  list  of  fifty  her- 
baceous plants  have  all  been  seen  really  growing,  and 
coming  up,  year  after  year,  in  private  gardens  in  London. 
Some  are  not  so  sturdy  as  others ;  for  instance,  neither 
alyssum  nor  phlox  flourish  as  well  as  thrift  or  the 
members  of  the  iris  tribe,  but  all  are  hardy  in  London. 
Thomas  Fairchild,  who  had  a  famous  nursery  garden 
at  Hoxton,  writing  of  City  gardens  in  1722,  gives  his 
experience  of  plants  that  succeed  best,  and  many  on 
his  list  are  those  that  do  well  still.  He  specially  notes 
some  growing  in  the  most  shut-in  parts  of  the  City, 
which  were  flourishing :  fraxinella  in  Aldermanbury, 
monkshood  and  lily  of  the  valley  near  the  Guildhall, 
bladder  senna  in  Crutched  Friars,  and  so  on,  mentioning 
many  of  those  which  still  prove  the  most  smoke-resisting. 
One  large,  coarse,  but  handsome  plant  deserves  mention, 
as  it  grows  so  well  it  will  seed  itself,  and  that  is  the 
giant  heracleum.  It  propagates  itself  in  the  garden  of 
Lowther  Lodge,  Kensington  Gore,  and  in  much  more 
confined  spaces,  even  in  the  garden  used  by  the  London 
Hospital,  near  the  Mile  End  Road. 

LIST   OF    FIFTY    HERBACEOUS   PLANTS 

Alyssum.  Comfrey. 

Auricula.  Crane's  bill. 

Bachelors'  buttons.  Creeping  Jenny. 

Bugles.  Crown  Imperial. 

Campanula — several  varieties.  Cyclamen. 

Candytuft.  Day  lilies. 

Carnations.  Dictamnus  fraxinella  (burning  bush). 

Centaurea.  Doronicum  (leopard's  bane). 

Chrysanthemums.  Erigeron  (Fleabane). 

Columbines.  Funkias  (Plantain  lilies). 


PRIVATE    GARDENS 


333 


Galega  officinalis. 

Golden  rod  (solidago). 

Heucheras. 

Hollyhocks. 

Iris — several     varieties,     especially 

those  with    rhizomes    and    non- 
bulbous  roots. 
Japanese  anemone. 
Larkspur. 

Lilies  of  the  valley. 
Lilies — 

Canadense. 

Candidum. 

Davuricum. 

Lancifolium  (speciosum). 

Martagon  dalmaticum. 

Pyrenaicum. 

Tigrinum. 
London    Pride 

Saxifrages). 
Lupin. 
Mallow. 


(also    many   other 


Michaelmas  daisies. 

Monkshood. 

Montbretia. 

Pansies. 

Periwinkle. 

Phlox. 

Polygonum. 

Primroses    (also  Japanese  primulas, 

cowslips,  and  polyanthus). 
Pyrethrum. 
Rock  roses. 
Solomon's  seal. 
Southernwood. 
Speedwell    (Veronica    amethystina 

and  others). 
Spiraea       (S.       aruncus,      venusta, 

&c.). 
Sunflower      (perennial,      including 

Harpalium). 
Thrift. 
Tradescantia. 
Trollius. 


Of  climbing  plants  the  Virginian  creeper,  which 
makes  a  green  bower  of  so  many  London  houses,  must 
come  first,  but  the  real  grape  vine  is  quite  as  successful. 
In  several  parts  of  London  vines  laden  with  grapes  may 
be  seen  in  the  autumn,  by  those  on  the  look-out  for 
such  things.  One  vine  in  Buckingham  Gate  had  forty 
bunches  of  fruit  that  ripened  in  1906.  On  one  branch 
of  a  vine,  near  Ladbroke  Square,  fourteen  purple  bunches 
were  hanging  in  a  row  at  the  same  time,  and  in  other 
parts  of  the  town  well-cared-for  vines  will  bear  well. 
Wistaria  also  thrives,  and  jasmine,  yellow  or  white,  and 
ivy.  Besides  these  in  constant  use,  for  more  special 
gardens  there  are  Everlasting  peas,  Dutchman's  pipe 
(^Aristolochia),  clematis,  Jackmani,  Montana,  or  the  Wild 


334     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

Traveller's  Joy,  and  Passion  flower  ;  also  convolvulus, 
Cob^ea  scandens^  and  gourds  of  all  kinds  for  the 
summer. 

Spring  flowers  planted  in  autumn  succeed,  and  even 
those  in  pots  or  boxes  in  windows  or  on  roof  gardens 
flower  freely.  Hyacinths,  crocus,  tulips,  daffbdils,  and 
narcissus  do  well ;  snowdrops  are  not  so  successful  as  a 
rule,  but  Spanish  Iris  will  make  a  good  show  when  the 
earlier  bulbs  are  over.  The  minute  green-house  which 
often  opens  out  of  a  staircase  window  in  London  houses 
can  easily  be  made  gay  in  spring  by  this  means.  Acorns 
and  chestnuts  sown  in  the  autumn  in  shallow  pans  and 
covered  with  moss  make  a  delightful  small  forest  from 
May  onwards.  Foxgloves  dug  out  of  the  woods  will 
flower  well  in  these  dingy  little  green-houses,  and  are  a 
delightful  contrast  to  the  ferns  which  will  flourish  best 
in  them.  A  few  other  plants  are  sturdy  for  this  purpose, 
such  as  the  fan  palms,  Chamcerops  excelsa^  Fortunei^  and 
humilis^  Aspidistra,  Aralia  Sieboldii,  Selaginella  Kraussina, 
the  Cornish  money-wort  (Sibthorpia).  Geraniums  will 
flower  well,  and  Imantophyllums  (or  Clivias)  are  one  of 
the  most  accommodating  plants  for  such  small  green- 
houses, as  although  they  take  up  an  undue  share  of 
room  on  account  of  the  large  pots  necessary,  they  will 
flower  well  every  year. 

Roses  only  do  fairly  well ;  but  though  they  some- 
times will  last  two  or  three  years,  they  are  apt  to  give 
disappointments  and  must  often  be  renewed.  The 
climbing  roses,  however,  in  some  gardens  are  very 
charming.  In  one  of  the  prettiest  in  London — that 
belonging  to  Sir  Laurence  Alma-Tadema,  in  Grove  End 
Road — the  illustration  shows  how  charmingly  an  iron 
trellis  is  covered  with  red  and  white  roses.     The  garden 


i}^o  r< 


=>  or  on  -roof  r 

^ower  f  i  iyacinths,  crocus,  tulips,  dafi 

*narcl  owdrops  are  not  so  successful  as  a 

V  ■■  '■    -    '-     -   ^  ^ow  when  the 

Q  ^      :i -house  which 

P  rcasc  window  in  London  house 
•^can  easijv 
>      '     '     ' 

u- — 

>Mav  il 

u 


> 

^      e  Cornish  moncy-wurt  (^  d).     Geraniums  wi 

'^  iiowcr  well.  ^"^   ^" '■  -  '"'■-■'as)  are  one  of 

Q  •''^^   !   '>.t                             ^    ^  small  green- 

y  take  up  an   undue   share  ' 

W  cessary,  they  wr 

> 
O 

w 

H;  lUst    or  .ewcd.      1 

*"»  c  T,    in    some    gardens    arc 

the    prettiest    in   Lond  '*^ 

je  Alma-Tadema,  in  G 

-^n   shows   how  charming)' 

d  white  roses.     T 


y    we':  •      hv 

h  they 

thre 

s  apt  t 

ust    or 

'.ewed. 

PRIVATE    GARDENS  335 

is  most  artistically  arranged  and  is  a  good  illustration  of 
how  much  can  be  made  of  a  small  space.  A  large  ever- 
green oak  overhangs  the  basin  with  a  stone  margin  and 
splashing  fountain,  on  which  water-lilies  gracefully  float. 
The  variety  and  harmony  of  the  whole  garden,  with  its 
paths  shaded  by  fig-trees,  apples  and  pears,  cherries  and 
lilacs,  sunny  borders  with  Scotch  roses,  Day  lilies,  fox- 
gloves, and  iris,  and  formal  fountains,  all  in  a  small  space, 
yet  not  crowded,  and  bright  with  flowers,  is  delightful. 
Another  small  garden  in  Kensington — tended  by  Lady 
Bergne — of  quite  another  type,  contains  nearly  all  the 
flowers  that  have  been  mentioned  as  growing  well  in 
London.  It  is  only  the  stereotyped  long  narrow  strip 
at  the  back  of  the  house ;  but  by  putting  a  path  and 
rock-work  and  pools  of  water  on  one  side,  and  having 
grass  and  flower  borders  on  the  other,  backed  by  flower- 
ing shrubs  and  ferns  at  the  shaded  end,  a  great  variety 
of  plants  have  been  grown  successfully. 

In  most  London  gardens  very  little  enterprise  is 
shown.  The  old  system  of  bedding  out  is  adhered  to. 
Of  the  large  London  houses  standing  by  their  own 
lawns,  none  have  gardens  of  any  horticultural  interest. 
Montagu  House  is  on  the  site  of  the  extensive  Igardens 
of  Whitehall,  and  the  present  lawn  is  where  the  bowl- 
ing green,  with  its  gay  throng  of  players,  lay  in  former 
years,  and  the  terrace  keeps  up  the  tradition  of  the  wide 
terraces  that  descended  from  the  palace  to  the  green. 
The  turf  is  still  fair  and  green,  and  is  brightened  in 
summer  by  lines  of  geraniums,  white  daisies,  and 
calceolarias.  Devonshire  House  garden,  on  the  site 
of  the  famous  one  belonging  to  Berkeley  House  that 
covered  all  the  present  Square,  is  in  the  same  way 
merely  planted  with  the  usual  summer  bedding  plants. 


336     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Lord  Portman's  house,  22  Portman  Square,  is  where 
Mrs.  Montagu,  the  Queen  of  the  Blue-Stockings,  held 
her  court.  The  present  garden,  with  spacious  lawn, 
has  no  horticultural  peculiarity,  but  its  historical  interest 
lies  in  the  fact  that  it  was  here  that  Mrs.  Montagu 
entertained  the  chimney-sweeps,  every  year  on  the  ist  of 
May.  She  is  said  to  have  done  so,  to  give  these  poor 
children  *'  one  happy  day  in  the  year,"  and  when  the 
horrors  and  tragedies  attending  the  lives  and  often 
deaths  of  these  cruelly  treated  little  creatures  is  realised, 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  one  lady  was  humane 
enough  to  befriend  them. 

A  quaint  pathetic  poem  by  Allan  Cunningham, 
written  in  1824,  records  in  characteristically  stilted 
language  an  incident  supposed  to  have  occurred  to 
Mrs.  Montagu.  A  sad  boy,  whose  life  was  spent  in 
climbing  flues,  is  pictured,  and  one  lady  he  supplicates 
turns  away — "  And  lo  !  another  lady  came,"  and  spoke 
kindly  to  him,  asked  him  why  he  thus  spent  his  life, 
listened  to  his  tale  of  how  he  was  an  orphan  and  "  sold 
to  this  cruel  trade." 

"  She  stroked  the  sooty  locks  and  smiled, 
While  o'er  the  dusky  boy, 
As  streams  the  sunbeam  through  a  cloud, 
There  came  a  flash  of  joy. 
She  took  him  from  his  cruel  trade. 
And  soon  the  milk-white  hue 
Came  to  his  neck  ;   he  with  the  muse 
Sings,  '  Bless  the  Montagu.'  " 

Her  kindness  is  recorded  in  other  poems,  and  in 
her  lifetime  took  the  practical  shape  of  a  sumptuous 
spread  of  beef  and  plum-pudding  on  the  lawn  of  her 
house  in   Portman  Square. 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  337 

Grosvenor  House  garden,  with  terrace  and  lawn 
sloping  down  to  large  trees,  has  natural  advantages  for 
a  beautiful  garden,  but  a  row  of  beds  along  the  terrace 
are  the  only  flowers.  The  owners  of  these  large  London 
gardens  have  such  an  abundance  of  floral  display  else- 
where that  no  real  gardening  seems  to  be  attempted. 
To  understand  what  are  the  horticultural  possibilities  of 
London,  it  is  in  the  minute  back -garden  that  the 
lesson  must  be  learned,  and  the  subject  studied. 
Holland  House  is  an  exception  to  this  rule,  for  there 
the  most  beautiful  garden,  in  keeping  with  the  magni- 
ficent old  house,  is  kept  up,  and  the  greatest  care  and 
skill  were  bestowed  on  it  with  wonderful  results  by 
the  late  Earl  of  Ilchester. 

No  house,  perhaps,  has  more  associations  than 
Holland  House.  Its  history  has  been  so  often  written, 
that  to  go  over  it  in  detail  would  be  superfluous. 
Built  by  Sir  Walter  Cope,  while  Elizabeth  was  on  the 
throne,  from  the  designs  of  Thorpe,  it  doubtless  from 
the  first  had  a  good  garden,  as  in  those  days  great  care 
was  expended  on  the  surroundings  of  a  house,  for 
people  realised,  as  did  Bacon,  that,  "  men  come  to  build 
stately,  sooner  than  to  garden  finely ;  as  if  gardening 
were  the  greater  perfection."  The  second  stage  in  its 
history,  when  it  passed  to  Henry  Rich,  through  his 
marriage  with  Sir  Walter  Cope's  daughter  and  heiress, 
was  even  more  eventful.  He  enlarged  the  house, 
which  became  known  as  Holland  House  after  Charles  I. 
had  created  him  Baron  Kensington  and  Earl  of  Holland. 
His  wonderful  personal  charm,  inherited  from  his  mother, 
the  "Stella"  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  made  him  a  general 
favourite  ;  but  not  even  his  attachment  to  the  Queen, 
preserved  him  from  disloyalty,  although  in  the  end  he 

Y 


338     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

fought  for  the  King's  cause.  While  he  was  on  the 
Parliamentary  side,  Holland  House  was  often  the 
meeting-place  of  its  leaders.  Cromwell  and  Ireton 
talked  together  in  the  centre  of  the  field  in  front  of 
the  house,  so  that  their  raised  voices,  occasioned  by 
Ireton's  deafness,  should  not  be  overheard.  For  a  time 
after  the  Restoration,  Holland  House  was  tenanted  by 
various  people  of  note,  to  whom  it  was  let  out  in 
suites  by  the  widowed  Countess.  One  among  them,  the 
Frenchman  Chardin,  who  became  famous  by  his  travels 
to  Persia,  it  has  been  surmised,  may  have  brought  some 
of  the  rare  plants  to  the  garden.  The  connection  with 
Addison  came  from  his  marriage  with  the  Dowager 
Lady  Warwick,  to  whom  the  house  belonged,  the 
second  Lord  Holland  having  succeeded  his  cousin  as 
Earl  of  Warwick.  He  must  have  delighted  in  the 
gardens  of  Holland  House,  although  they  were  hardly 
so  wild  as  the  ideal  one  he  describes  in  the  Spectator. 
There  he  said,  "  I  look  upon  the  pleasure  which  we 
take  in  a  garden  as  one  of  the  most  innocent  delights 
in  human  life."  No  doubt  he  found  some  solace  in 
the  beauties  of  Holland  House  garden  to  cheer  the 
depression  of  the  unhappincss  the  marriage  had 
brought  him.  The  brilliant  days  of  Holland  House 
continued  after  it  changed  hands,  and  was  owned  by 
Henry  Fox,  second  son  of  Sir  Stephen  Fox, 
who  was  chiefly  instrumental  in  starting  Chelsea 
Hospital.  Henry  Fox  eloped  with  Lady  Caroline 
Lennox,  and  was  afterwards  created  Lord  Holland. 
He  took  great  interest  in  his  garden,  and  was  advised 
and  helped  by  the  well-known  collector  and  horticul- 
turist, Peter  Collinson.  This  friend  was  the  means 
of   introducing    many    new    plants    to    this    country — a 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  339 

genus  Collinsonia  was  named  after  him — and  he  must 
have  been  pleasant  and  good  besides,  for  his  biographer 
says  to  him  was  attached  "all  that  respect  which  is  due 
to  benevolence  and  virtue."  He  was  in  correspondence 
with  leading  men  in  America,  and  was  constantly  receiv- 
ing seeds  and  plants,  and  his  own  garden  contained  "  a 
more  complete  assortment  of  the  orchis  genus  than, 
perhaps,  had  ever  been  seen  in  one  collection  before." 
No  doubt  some  found  their  way  to  the  gardens  of  his 
friend,  Lord  Holland.  How  astonished  they  both  would 
be  could  they  peep  for  a  moment  at  the  orchids  dis- 
played in  the  tents  of  the  Horticultural  Society's  shows, 
which  have  been  allowed  to  take  place  in  the  park 
where  Cromwell  conversed  .?  At  this  time  the  gardens 
must  have  been  considerably  remodelled,  as  the  taste 
for  the  formal  was  waning,  and  the  "  natural "  school 
taking  its  place.  One  of  the  pioneers  of  the  natural 
style,  Charles  Hamilton,  assisted  the  new  design.  His 
own  place,  Painshill,  near  Cobham,  in  Surrey,  embraced 
all  the  newest  ideas,  groves,  thickets,  lakes,  temples, 
grottos,  sham  ruins,  and  hermitages.  A  contemporary 
admirer,  Wheatley,  says  of  Painshill,  it  "  is  all  a  new 
creation  ;  and  a  boldness  of  design,  and  a  happiness  of 
execution  attend  the  wonderful  efforts  which  art  has 
there  made  to  rival  nature."  No  doubt  this  adept  in 
the  new  art  would  introduce  many  changes.  The 
*'  Green  Lane "  was  a  road  shut  up  by  Lady  Holland, 
and  Hamilton  is  said  to  have  suggested  turfing  it.  He 
appears  to  have  been  fond  of  woodland  glades  and  turfed 
the  shaded  walks  in  his  own  creation,  so  it  seems  very 
likely  that  the  idea  of  grass  was  his.  In  the  Green  Lane, 
Charles  James  Fox,  son  of  the  first  Lady  Holland,  who 
closed  the  road,  loved  to  walk,  and  still  the  Green  Lane 


340     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

is  one  of  the  most  attractive  spots  in  all  London.  The 
fame  of  Holland  House  increased  as  time  went  on,  and 
some  of  its  most  brilliant  days  were  during  the  time 
of  the  third  Lord  Holland,  when  Lady  Holland  drew 
all  the  wit  and  fashion  of  London  to  her  salon. 
Although  it  is  no  longer  a  country  place,  and  though 
no  highwaymen  have  to  be  braved  to  reach  it,  and 
though  its  surroundings  are  completely  changed,  the 
garden  of  Holland  House  was  never  more  beautiful 
than  it  is  to-day.  It  is  easy  to  forget  it  is  a  London 
garden,  the  flowers  look  so  clean  and  fresh.  The  long 
vista  into  the  rose  garden  from  the  lawn,  which  lies 
to  the  north,  is  flanked  on  either  side  with  pink  roses, 
that  pretty  free-flowering  Caroline  Testout.  To  the 
west,  overlooking  the  Dutch  garden,  the  view  is  even 
more  attractive,  and  the  garden  so  well  harmonises  with 
the  house  that  it  is  easy  to  picture  the  beaux  in  wigs, 
and  ladies  in  hoops  and  powder,  moving  among  the 
box-edged  beds.  On  the  south,  the  wide  terrace  shown 
in  the  sketch  was  made  in  1848,  when  the  footpath  was 
altered  and  the  entrance  to  the  house  changed  to  the 
eastern  side.  The  stone  basin  in  the  centre  was  put 
in  by  the  late  Lord  Ilchester.  The  hybrid  water-lilies, 
raised  by  Marliac,  grow  well  in  it,  and  that  rather 
delicate,  but  most  beautiful  of  the  Sagittarias,  monte- 
vidensis  has  flowered  there.  The  raised  terrace  on  the 
arches  of  the  old  stables,  which  encloses  one  side  of 
the  garden  and  is  covered  with  a  tangle  of  ivy,  aflFords 
a  charming  view  over  the  Dutch  garden.  Beyond 
is  the  old  ballroom,  orangery  and  garden  enclosed  by 
arches  of  cut  limes.  A  terrace  runs  to  the  south  of 
the  Dutch  garden  and  orangery,  and  the  Italian  garden 
which  lies  here  is  in  itself  as  complete  a  contrast  to  the 


\    PARKS    &    GARL 

x>st  attractive  spots  in  all  London.     The 
id  House  increased  as  time  went  on, 
L^    most   brilliant  days  were  during  the    m 
third  Lord  Holland,  when  Lady  Holland  u 
all    the   wit    and    fashion    of    London  .  to   her   salon. 
Although  it  is  no  longer  a  country  place,  and  thoi  :^h 
no    '      '       ymen    have    to    be    braved    to    reach   it,  and 
tho.  _,         -    surroundings  are   completely    changed,   the 
garden    of  Holland   House  was   never  more  beautiful 
than  it  is  to-day.     It  is  easy  to  forget  it  is  a  London 
^  len,  the  flowers  look  so  clean  and  fresh.     The  I 

§  ,  :a  into  the  rose  garden  from  the  lawn,  which  .._. 
JC  to  the  north,  is  flanked  on  either  side  with  pink  roses, 
O    that   prettv  ne   Testout.     To   the 

O  house  ' 

*  and  ladies  in  hoops  and  powder,  moving  among  the 
Q  south,  the  wide  terrace  shown 

g  ,1  vv.i-    i.-ia--  111  1848,  when  the  footpath  was 

•-Q  I  the  entrance  to  the  house   changed   to  the 

•^  eastern  side.  The  stone  basin  in  the  centre  was  put 
2  y  the  late  Lord  Ilchcster.     The  hybrid  water-lilies, 

^j  '    by    Ma''"         well    in    it,    r.        -^-    -  '^  - 

tC  ,    but    1 fu\   of  the   Sr- 

'>tsis  has  flowered   '  on  the 

8  one  side  of 
the  and  IS  covered  witn  a   tangle  of  ivy,  afl^ 

a  ci.a,.i>i..g  view  over  the  Dutch  garden.  Beyi  ..^ 
is  the  old  ballroom,  orangery  and  garden  enclosed  by 
arches  of  cut  limes.  A  terrace  runs  to  the  south  of 
the  Di  and  orangery,  and  the  Italian  garden 

whr  •  in  itself  as  complete  a  contrast  to  the 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  341 

box-edged  beds  of  the  Dutch  garden  as  is  the  Japanese 
garden,  a  new  addition  which  lies  further  to  the  north. 
It  was  near  here  that  the  fatal  duel  between  Lord 
Camelford  and  Colonel  Best  took  place  in  1804.  There 
is  yet  another  small  enclosed  garden  cut  off  by  thick 
yew  hedges  and  fat  hollies  from  the  rest.  In  it  is  the 
seat  inscribed  with  lines  to  the  poet  Rogers  : — 

"  Here  Rogers  sat,  and  here  forever  dwell 
With  me  those  Pleasures  that  he  sings  so  well." 

In  this  garden,  year  by  year,  dahlias  have  grown 
ever  since  they  were  first  successfully  grown  in  England. 
In  1789  the  dahlia  came  for  the  first  time  from  the 
New  World  to  the  Old.  It  was  then  sent  to  Spain, 
and  that  same  year  Lady  Bute  procured  some  from 
Madrid.  She  was  not,  however,  successful  in  growing 
it  and  it  quite  died  out,  until  it  was  reintroduced  by 
Lady  Holland  in  1804.  The  plants  remained  rare  in 
England  for  some  years.  It  was  being  grown  in  France, 
Germany,  and  Holland,  but  little  had  been  done  to 
improve  the  original  plant.  When,  however,  a  larger 
supply  was  available  in  England  after  18 14,  the  English 
growers  took  it  up,  and  produced,  before  long,  the 
round  very  double  flowers  which  soon  became  the  rage. 
In  stilted  style  a  writer  in  1824  describes  the  dahlia 
mania,  after  giving  the  history  of  its  introduction.  "  It 
was  left  to  English  capital  and  perseverance,"  he  says, 
*'  to  illuminate  the  northern  part  of  the  globe  by  the 
full  brilliancy  of  these  floral  luminaries."  Thus  in 
extravagant  language  he  continues  to  sing  the  praises 
of  the  dahlia.  It  is  curious  that  the  name  is  now 
generally  pronounced  as  if  it  were  "dalea,"  forgetful 
of  the  fact  that  there  is  a  flower,  something  like  a  vetch. 


342     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

called  "  Dalea  "  by  Linnasus,  after  Dr.  Samuel  Dale,  who 
died  in  1739,  a  well-known  botanist  and  friend  of  Ray. 
The  dahlia  was  named  long  after  in  honour  of  the 
Swedish  botanist  Dahl. 

The  so-called  "Japanese  garden"  was  made  by  the 
late  Lord  Ilchester.  It  is  extremely  pretty,  but  is 
entirely  an  English  idea  of  what  a  Japanese  garden  is 
like,  and,  however  pleasing  it  may  be  to  the  uninitiated, 
would  probably  shock  the  Japanese  gardener,  who  is 
guided  by  as  precise  rules  in  his  garden,  as  the  painter 
in  his  art.  In  Japan  the  rules  governing  the  laying-out 
of  a  garden  are  so  exact  that,  apparently,  it  requires 
years  of  study  to  acquire  the  rudiments.  The  Japanese 
garden  at  Holland  House,  which  is  pleasing  to  the 
English  eye,  consists  of  a  little  stream  descending 
through  grassy  lawns,  with  groups  of  plants,  a  stone 
lantern,  and  rustic  bridges,  and  water  plants  at  each 
little  pond.  The  delightful  Iris  ktempferi  flowers  well, 
and  yuccas,  which,  by  the  way,  come  from  America, 
and  not  Japan  ;  neither  do  Aralia  spinosa  or  Saxifraga 
peltata^  which  together  form  charming  groups,  with 
auratum  lilies  in  the  summer  and  other  Japanese  plants. 
The  French  hybrid  water-lilies,  of  varying  shades  of 
pink,  red,  and  yellow,  here  too  make  a  picture,  with 
their  brilliant  blossoms  floating  on  the  miniature  pools 
— while  bamboos,  maples,  and  eulalias,  true  natives  of 
Japan,  make  a  soft  and  feathery  background.  Above 
the  Japanese  garden  there  is  a  well-furnished  rock 
garden,  and  between  that  and  the  roses,  which  make 
such  a  grand  display  on  the  north  of  the  house,  green 
walks  through  rhododendrons  and  flowering  shrubs 
unite  the  gardens.  There  are  some  really  fine  trees, 
as   well   as   all   the    charming   flowers,    in    the    grounds. 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  343 

Near  the  bridge  leading  to  the  Japanese  garden  there 
is  a  beautiful  evergreen  oak  and  rare  forest  trees,  while 
on  the  lawn  some  old  cedars,  planted  by  Charles  James 
Fox,  are  showing  signs  of  decrepitude,  although  the 
delightful  picturesque  effect  a  cedar  always  has,  adds 
one  more  to  the  many  charms  of  this,  the  most  beautiful 
as  well  as  the  largest  of  London  gardens. 

There  is  a  charming  group  of  houses  standing  in 
their  own  grounds  still  left  on  Campden  Hill,  although 
Campden  House  has  been  demolished  and  its  site  built 
over  within  the  last  few  years.  The  property  on  which 
Campden  House  stood,  and  some  authorities  say  the 
house  itself,  was  won  over  some  game  of  chance  in 
James  I.'s  time  by  Sir  Baptist  Hicks,  afterwards  Viscount 
Campden,  from  Sir  Walter  Cope,  the  builder  of  Holland 
House,  hard  by.  It  was  to  Campden  House  that  Queen 
Anne's  little  son,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  was  taken 
for  country  air.  The  air  is  still  pleasant  on  these 
heights,  and  the  open  tract  of  Holland  Park  gives  so 
much  freshness  that  plants  flourish  wonderfully.  There 
are  good  gardens  attached  to  many  of  the  houses — Cam 
House,  Blundell  House,  Aubrey  House,  Thornwood, 
Holly,  and  Moray  Lodges,  and  several  others.  Holly 
Lodge  is  noteworthy  as  having  for  a  few  years  been 
the  residence  of  Lord  Macaulay.  There  are  some 
charming  trees  in  the  grounds,  even  yews  (which  are 
among  the  first  to  suffer  from  smoke)  looking  well ;  a 
good  old  mulberry  and  silver  elms,  and  a  camellia  in  a 
border  near  the  wall,  which  often  flowers  out  of  doors, 
although  some  years  the  half-open  buds  drop  ofl^  from 
the  effects  of  frosty  fogs. 

Cam  House  has  one  of  the  most  charming  gardens. 
It   is  now   lived   in   by  Sir  Walter  Phillimore,  and  has 


344     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

been  in  his  family  for  some  150  years.  It  was  well 
known  as  Argyll  Lodge,  as  the  late  Duke  bought  the 
lease  and  made  it  his  town  residence  from  the  time 
he  first  took  office  in  Lord  Aberdeen's  ministry  in  1852. 
Before  that  it  was  known  as  Bedford  Lodge,  as  the. 
Duchess  of  Bedford,  step-mother  of  Lord  John  Russell, 
the  Prime  Minister,  had  lived  there  and  laid  out  and 
planted  most  of  the  garden.  The  "  two  very  old  oaks, 
which,"  wrote  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  "would  have  done 
no  discredit  to  any  ancient  chase  in  England,"  are  still 
to  be  seen.  The  Duke  was  also  delighted  with  the  wild 
birds  which  there  made  their  homes  in  the  garden  ;  in 
fact,  he  says  in  his  Memoirs,  it  was  the  sight  of  the 
"  fine  lawn  covered  with  starlings,  hunting  for  grubs 
and  insects  in  their  very  peculiar  fashion,"  the  nut- 
hatches "  moving  over  the  trees,  as  if  they  were  in 
some  deep  English  woodland,"  the  fly-catchers  and  the 
warblers,  that  made  him  decide  to  take  the  house. 
During  the  half-century  he  lived  there  many  of  the 
birds,  the  fly  catchers,  reed-wren,  black  cap,  and  willow- 
wren,  and  nut-hatches,  deserted  the  garden,  but  even 
now  starlings  and  wood-pigeons  abound,  and,  what  is 
even  more  rare  in  London,  squirrels  may  be  seen 
swinging  from  branch  to  branch  of  the  old  trees.  Be- 
sides the  two  old  pollard  oaks  there  are  good  beech  and 
copper-beech,  elder,  chestnuts,  snowy  medlar,  sycamore, 
several  varieties  of  thorn,  and  a  large  Scotch  laburnum, 
Laburnum  alpinum^  which  flowers  later  than  the  ordinary 
laburnum,  and  is  therefore  valuable  to  prolong  the 
season  of  these  golden  showers.  The  leaves  are  broader 
and  darker,  and  growth  more  spreading.  On  the  vine 
trellis  is  a  curious  old  vine  with  strongly  scented  flowers. 
All  the  plants  which  thrive  in  London  are  well  grown 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  345 

in  the  charming  formal  garden  and  along  the  old  wall, 
which  is  covered  with  delicious  climbing  plants.  So 
luxuriously  will  some  flowers  grow,  that  the  hollyhocks 
from  this  garden  took  the  prize  at  the  horticultural 
show  held  in  the  grounds  of  Holland  House,  in  a 
competition  open  to  all  the  gardens  in  the  Kingdom. 

At  Fulham  there  is  a  charming  garden,  with  trees 
which  would  be  remarkable  anywhere,  and  appear  still 
more  beautiful  from  their  proximity  to  London.  These 
trees  in  the  grounds  of  Broom  House  have  fared  on 
the  whole  better  than  those  at  Fulham  Palace,  hard  by. 
It  is  separated  from  the  Palace  by  the  grounds  now 
attached  to  the  club  of  Hurlingham.  Of  Hurlingham 
there  is  not  much  early  history.  Faulkner,  the  authority 
for  this  district,  writes  in  1813  :  "Hurlingham  Field 
is  now  the  property  of  the  Earl  of  Ranelagh  and  the 
site  of  his  house.  It  was  here  that  great  numbers  of 
people  were  buried  during  the  Plague."  The  same 
authority  mentions  :  "  The  Dowager  Countess  of  Lons- 
dale has  an  elegant  house  and  gardens  here  in  full  view 
of  the  Thames,"  and  Broom  House  is  shown  on 
Rocque's  map  of  1757.  The  estate  was  bought  by  Mr. 
Sulivan  from  the  Nepean  family  in  1824,  and  his 
daughter,  Miss  Sulivan,  keeps  up  the  garden  with  the 
utmost  good  taste  and  knowledge  of  horticulture.  The 
ailanthus,  with  a  trunk  10  feet  4  inches  in  girth  at 
4  feet  from  the  ground,  is  probably  one  of  the  finest 
specimens  in  England.  The  one  in  Fulham  Palace 
garden  is  exactly  the  same  girth,  but  does  not  appear 
to  be  so  lofty.  The  liquidamber  is  also  a  magnificent 
tree,  and  the  false  acacia  is  quite  as  fine  as  the  one  in 
Fulham  Palace,  and  was  probably  planted  at  the  same 
time.      There   are   still    two    cedars    left,    although   the 


346     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

finest  was  blown  down  some  years  ago,  and  the  timber 
afforded  panelling  for  a  large  room  and  many  pieces  of 
furniture.  Perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of  the  trees  is 
the  copper  or  purple  beech.  Not  only,  is  it  very  tall 
and  has  a  massive  trunk  (14  feet  6  inches  at  2  feet  from 
the  ground),  but  the  shape  is  quite  perfect,  and  its 
branches  are  furnished  evenly  all  round.  There  are 
also  good  evergreen  oaks,  elms,  chestnuts  and  Scotch 
firs.  There  is  a  large  collection  of  flowering  shrubs, 
which  are  in  no  way  affected  by  the  smoky  air.  Standard 
magnolias,  grandiflora,  conspicua  and  stellata,  many 
varieties  of  the  delightful  autumn-flowering  plant,  the 
Hibiscus  syriacus,  known  to  older  gardeners  as  Althaa 
frutex^  and  recommended  under  that  name  by  Fairchild 
in  1722  as  suited  to  London,  Crat^gus pyracantha^  Choysia^ 
Pyrus  spectahilis^  and  many  other  equally  delightful  shrubs 
all  appear  most  flourishing.  These,  together  with  her- 
baceous plants  and  ornamental  trees,  well  grouped  in  a 
garden  of  good  design,  with  the  river  flowing  at  the  foot 
of  it,  make  the  grounds  of  Broom  House  rank  among 
the  most  attractive  about  London. 

A  few  of  the  gardens,  like  this  one,  have  succeeded 
in  keeping  the  real  stamp  of  the  country,  in  spite  of  the 
encroachments  of  the  town  and  the  advance  of  trams  and 
motor  omnibuses,  but  they  are  every  day  becoming  more 
scarce.  Hampstead  and  Highgate  have  many  such,  and 
here  and  there,  to  the  north  and  on  the  south  of  the 
river,  such  delightful  spots  are  to  be  found,  although  the 
temptation  to  cut  them  up  and  build  small  red  villas  on 
the  sites  is  very  great.  Towards  the  north  of  London 
there  are  many  small  gardens  which  are  bright  and  attrac- 
tive, and  without  going  so  far  as  Hampstead,  pleached 
walks   and   small   but    tastefully  arranged    grounds    are 


PRP  >JS 


int-;     V  " 

char  mi  lit 
been  air. 
two 
are  S 
in    : 


are   trie 
a  still,   1.   - 
sound  and 
the  ■ 
feet. 


by    Mr.  .valks 

^:  TiHAH  Z'TVl^OE^  ^OQOJ  2*FIHOl  .tT?,,,i,^ 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  347 

met  with.  Within  Regent's  Park  there  are  several 
charming  gardens  round  the  detached  villas,  which  have 
been  already  noticed  in  the  chapter  on  that  Park.  The 
two  most  interesting  from  a  horticultural  point  of  view 
are  St.  Katharine's  and  St.  John's  Lodges.  The  fountain 
in  the  former  is  the  frontispiece  to  this  volume,  and 
that  view  says  more  than  any  elaborate  description.  It 
might  be  in  some  far-away  Italian  garden,  so  perfectly 
are  the  sights  and  sounds  of  London  obliterated.  On 
a  still,  hot  day,  when  the  fountain  drips  with  a  cool 
sound  and  there  is  a  shimmering  light  of  summer  over 
the  distant  trees  beyond  the  terrace,  the  delusion  is  per- 
fect. Most  of  the  herbaceous  plants  which  take  kindly 
to  London  grow  in  the  border — hollyhocks,  day  lilies, 
poppies,  peonies,  pulmoneria  and  lilies,  while  there  is  a 
large  variety  of  flowering  shrubs — ribes,  lilacs,  buddleias, 
shumachs  and  Aralia  spinosa.  The  kitchen-garden  pro- 
duces good  crops  of  most  of  the  ordinary  vegetables. 
The  garden  is  arranged  with  a  definite  design  ;  there  is 
nothing  specially  formal,  no  cut  trees  or  anything  asso- 
ciated with  some  of  the  formal  ideas  in  England,  but  there 
is  method  in  the  design  ;  the  trees  and  plants  grow  as 
Nature  intended  them,  but  they  are  not  stuck  about  in 
incongruous  disorder  and  meaningless,  distorted  lines, 
as  is  so  often  thought  necessary,  in  designing  a  garden  or 
**  improving  "  a  park. 

St.  John's  Lodge  has  also  a  well-thought-out  garden, 
some  of  it  of  a  distinctly  formal  type.  The  coloured 
illustration  of  it  is  taken  from  a  part  of  the  garden 
enclosed  with  cut  privet  hedges,  with  a  fountain  in  the 
centre,  on  which  stands  a  statue  of  St.  John  the  Baptist, 
by  Mr.  Johnes.  Between  the  four  wide  grass  walks 
there  are  masses  of  herbaceous  plants,  backed  by  rhodo- 


348     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

dendrons,  which,  as  the  picture  shows,  stand  out  with 
brilliant  colour  in  summer  against  the  green  background. 
This  garden  opens  into  a  bowling-green  enclosed  by 
cut  lime  trees,  and  a  cool  walk  for  surnmer  shaded  by 
pleached  lime  trees.  A  seductive  broad  walk  bordered 
with  fruit-trees  is  another  feature.  This  attractive  garden 
has  been  made  within  the  last  eighteen  years.  The  con- 
ception of  it  was  due  to  Lord  Bute,  and  the  designing 
and  carrying  out  to  Mr.  Schultz.  The  other  side  of 
the  house,  with  a  wide  terrace  and  park  stretching 
down  toward  the  water,  has  no  special  horticultural 
feature,  but  the  formal  garden  is  full  of  charm,  and 
the  plants  are  thriving  and  trees  growing  up  so  fast 
there  is  no  trace  of  its  newness.  It  only  shows  how 
much  can  be  done  where  knowledge  and  good  taste  are 
displayed. 

St.  James's  Park  is  still  skirted  by  garden  walls — 
Stafford,  Clarence,  and  Marlborough  Houses,  as  well  as 
St.  James's  Palace,  though  their  gardens  are  hardly  as 
elaborate  as  those  of  former  years.  The  garden  of  that 
Palace  delighted  the  Sieur  de  la  Serre,  who  accompanied 
Marie  de  Medicis  when  she  came  to  pay  a  visit  to 
Henrietta  Maria  and  Charles  I.  and  was  lodged  in 
St.  James's  Palace.  After  describing  the  house,  "  there 
were,  besides,"  he  writes,  "  two  grand  gardens  with 
parterres  of  different  figures,  bordered  on  every  side 
by  a  hedge  of  box,  carefully  cultivated  by  the  hands 
of  a  skilful  gardener ;  and  in  order  to  render  the 
walks  on  both  sides  which  enclosed  it  appear  more 
agreeable,  all  sorts  of  fine  flowers  were  sowed.  .  .  . 
The  other  garden,  which  was  adjoining  and  of  the 
same  extent,  had  divers  walks,  some  sanded  and  others 
grass,  but  both  bordered  on  each  side  by  an  infinity  of 


=  __,:^         {    ,,i^ 


In  the  Garden,  St.  John's  Lodge 


350     LONDON   PARKS    &   GARDENS 

fruit-trees,  which  rendered  walking  so  agreeable  that  one 
could  never  be  tired." 

The  garden  of  Bridgewater  House  was  a  little  slice 
taken  off  Green  Park.  On  the  advice  of  Fordyce,  the 
Crown  in  1795  granted  a  lease,  on  certain'  conditions,  to 
the  Duke  of  Bridgewater  and  other  proprietors  near 
their  respective  houses,  on  the  ground  that  it  would 
improve  rather  than  injure  the  Park.  In  1850  the 
question  arose  whether  the  plans  Barry  had  just  made 
for  the  garden  of  Bridgewater  House  infringed  the  terms 
of  the  lease,  and  Pennethorne,  architect  to  the  Office  of 
Works,  had  to  report  on  the  question.  It  being  finally 
settled  that  the  proposed  wall  and  terrace  would  not 
hurt  the  Park,  the  alterations  were  allowed. 

Last,  but  by  no  means  least,  either  in  size  or  import- 
ance, the  gardens  of  Buckingham  Palace  must  be  glanced 
at.  The  Palace  is  so  modern,  when  compared  with  the 
older  Royal  residences,  that  it  is  easy  to  forget  the 
history  of  the  forty  acres  enclosed  in  the  King's  private 
garden,  yet  they  have  much  historical  interest.  In  the 
time  of  James  I.  a  portion  of  the  ground  was  covered 
by  a  mulberry  garden,  which  the  King  had  planted, 
in  pursuance  of  his  scheme  to  encourage  the  culture 
of  silkworms,  in  1609.  That  year  he  spent  £g2S  ^^ 
levelling  the  four  acres  of  ground  and  building  a  wall 
round  it  for  the  protection  of  the  trees.  A  few  years 
later  most  of  the  enclosure  became  a  tea-garden,  while 
part  was  occupied  by  Goring  House.  There  are  many 
references  to  these  famous  tea-gardens,  called  the 
*'  Mulberry  Garden,"  in  plays  and  writings  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  Evelyn  notes  in  his  "Diary,"  on  loth 
April  1654  :  "  My  Lady  Gerrard  treated  us  at  Mulberry 
Garden,   now  the  only  place  of  refreshment   about  the 


PRIVATE    GARDENS  351 

town  for  persons  of  the  best  quality  to  be  exceeding 
cheated  at,  Cromwell  and  his  partisans  having  shut 
up  and  seized  Spring  Garden,  which  till  now  had  been 
the  usual  rendezvous  for  the  ladies  and  gallants  at  this 
season." 

Goring  House  stood  just  where  Buckingham  Palace 
does  now,  and  was  the  residence  of  George  Goring,  Earl 
of  Norwich,  and  of  his  son,  with  whom  the  title  became 
extinct.  It  was  let  in  1666,  by  the  last  Earl  of  Norwich, 
to  Lord  Arlington,  and  became  known  sometimes  as 
Arlington  House,  It  was  burnt  in  1674,  and  Evelyn 
notes  in  his  "  Diary"  of  21st  September  :  "  I  went  to  see 
the  great  losse  that  Lord  Arlington  had  sustained  by  fire 
at  Goring  House,  this  night  consumed  to  the  ground, 
with  exceeding  losse  of  hangings,  plate,  rare  pictures,  and 
cabinets ;  hardly  anything  was  saved  of  the  best  and 
most  princely  furniture  that  any  subject  had  in  England. 
My  lord  and  lady  were  both  absent  at  the  Bath."  Buck- 
ingham House,  which  was  built  in  1703  on  the  same 
site  for  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  must  have  been  very 
charming.  Defoe  describes  it  as  "  one  of  the  beauties 
of  London,  both  by  reason  of  its  situation  and  its  build- 
ing. .  .  .  Behind  it  is  a  fine  garden,  a  noble  terrace 
(from  whence,  as  well  as  from  the  apartments,  you  have 
a  most  delicious  prospect),  and  a  little  park  with  a  pretty 
canal."  The  Duke  of  Buckingham  himself  gives  a  full 
description  of  his  garden  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  telling 
him  how  he  passed  his  time  and  what  were  his  enjoy- 
ments, when  he  resigned  being  Privy  Seal  to  Queen 
Anne  (1709).  "To  the  garden,"  he  writes,  "  we  go 
down  from  the  house  by  seven  steps  into  a  gravel  walk 
that  reaches  across  the  garden,  with  a  covered  arbour  at 
each  end.     Another  of  thirty  feet  broad  leads  from  the 


352     LONDON    PARKS    <^    GARDENS 

front  of  the  house,  and  lies  between  two  groves  of  tall 
lime  trees,  planted  on  a  carpet  of  grass.  The  outsides 
of  those  groves  are  bordered  with  tubs  of  bays  and 
orange  trees.  At  the  end  of  the  broad  walk  you  go  up 
to  a  terrace  400  paces  long,  with  a  large  semicircle  in 
the  middle,  from  where  are  beheld  the  Queen's  (Anne's) 
two  parks  and  a  great  part  of  Surrey :  then,  going  down 
a  few  steps,  you  walk  on  the  bank  of  a  canal  600  yards 
long  and  17  broad,  with  two  rows  of  limes  on  either 
side.  On  one  side  of  this  terrace  a  wall,  covered  with 
roses  and  jessamines,  is  made  low  to  admit  the  view  of  a 
meadow  full  of  cattle  just  beneath  (no  disagreeable 
object  in  the  midst  of  a  great  city),  and  at  each  end  is  a 
descent  into  parterres  with  fountains  and  waterworks. 
From  the  biggest  of  these  parterres  we  pass  into  a  little 
square  garden,  that  has  a  fountain  in  the  middle  and 
two  green-houses  on  the  sides  .  .  .  below  this  a  kitchen- 
garden  .  .  .  and  under  the  windows  ...  of  this  green- 
house is  a  little  wilderness  full  of  blackbirds  and 
nightingales."  This  is  truly  an  entrancing  picture  of 
a  town  garden. 

The  waterworks,  those  elaborate  fountains  then  in 
vogue,  were  supplied  by  water  pumped  up  from  the 
Thames  into  a  tank  above  the  kitchen,  which  held  fifty 
tons  of  water.  Buckingham  House  was  then  a  red-brick 
building,  consisting  of  a  central  square  structure,  with 
stone  pillars  and  balustrade  along  the  top,  and  two 
wings  attached  to  the  main  building  by  a  colonnade. 
It  was  this  style  of  house  when  King  George  III.  bought 
it,  originally  for  a  dower-house  for  Queen  Charlotte, 
instead  of  Somerset  House,  where  the  Queens-Dowager 
had  previously  lived.  These  formal  gardens  were  not 
suited  to  the  taste   of  the   time,  and   George    IV.  had 


PRIVATE   GARDENS  353 

all  the  garden  altered,  as  well  as  the  house  rebuilt  by 
Nash.  The  whole  of  the  parterres,  terraces  and 
fountains  and  canal  were  swept  away,  and  most  of  the 
lime-trees  cut  down.  A  wide  lawn  and  five  acres  of 
ornamental  water,  glades,  walks  and  thickets  took  their 
place.  When  first  made  the  water  was  severely  criti- 
cised by  a  writer  of  the  landscape  school,  the  chief 
fault  he  found  being  that  too  much  was  visible  at  once 
from  the  path  which  encircled  it,  so  that  the  limits  were 
not  well  concealed.  This  seems  to  have  been  altered 
to  the  satisfaction  of  later  critics.  Dennis,  writing  in 
1835,  gives  a  plan  in  which  the  path  has  been  made 
a  little  distance  from  the  water's  edge,  and  the  outline 
broken  by  clumps  of  trees  and  a  promontory,  which 
later  on  was  turned  into  an  island,  on  which  a  willow 
from  Napoleon's  tomb  at  St.  Helena  is  said  to  have 
been  planted,  though  no  old  willow  now  exists.  This 
writer  gives  great  praise  to  Alton,  who  superintended  all 
the  execution  of  the  plans.  The  pavilion  in  the  grounds 
was  added  in  1844,  and  decorated  with  paintings  of 
scenes  from  Milton's  Comus  by  Eastlake,  Maclise,  Land- 
seer  and  other  artists,  with  borders  and  gilt  ornaments 
by  Gruner. 

During  the  last  four  years  his  Majesty  has  had  a 
great  deal  done  to  improve  the  grounds.  His  apprecia- 
tion of  what  is  beautiful  in  gardening  has  led  him  to 
effect  several  changes,  which,  while  keeping  the  park- 
like character  of  the  gardens,  have  added  immensely 
to  their  scenic  beauty  and  horticultural  interest.  The 
dead  and  dying  trees  and  others  of  poor  and  stunted 
growth  have  been  removed,  giving  air  and  light  to 
those  remaining.  Several  good  specimens  of  plane,  lime, 
elm,  beech,  ash,  ailanthus  and  hawthorn  have  thus  secured 

z 


354     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

more  space  to  develop.  A  very  large  assortment  of  all 
the  best  flowering  shrubs  which  will  flourish  in  London 
have  taken  the  place  of  worn-out  evergreens.  The  best 
of  the  hollies,  arbutus  and  healthy  evergreens  have  been 
encouraged  by  careful  attention.  The  great  object  in 
laying  out  the  garden  originally  was  naturally  to  obtain 
as  much  privacy  as  possible,  and  the  earth  taken  out  of 
the  lake  was  formed  into  a  great  bank,  which  was 
thickly  planted  to  screen  the  stables  and  distant  houses. 
This  bank,  which  was  stifle  and  formal  in  appearance, 
has  now  been  artistically  broken  by  planting  and  rock- 
work — not  merely  by  a  few  stones,  which  would  seem 
small,  unnatural,  and  out  of  place,  but  by  bold  crags, 
over  which  roses  climb,  and  where  gorse,  savin  and 
broom,  and  countless  other  suitable  plants  look  per- 
fectly at  home.  The  aspect  of  the  lake  is  also 
greatly  enhanced  by  the  substitution  of  rustic  stone 
bridges  for  the  iron  structures.  The  water's  edge  is 
well  furnished  with  iris  and  other  water-loving  plants 
— the  finest  Marliac  lilies  brighten  its  surface — and 
the  stifle,  round  island  is  now  varied  by  striking  rocky 
promontories  and  is  prettily  adorned  with  broom  and 
cherries. 

The  colossal  vase  by  Westmacott,  executed  as  a 
memento  of  the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  has  lately  been 
placed  on  one  of  the  lawns  in  an  amphitheatre  of  trees. 
It  stands  in  front  of  his  Majesty's  summer-house, 
which  is  quaint  in  design,  and  was  brought  from  the 
old  Spring  Gardens  at  Whitehall.  The  views  down 
the  wide  glades,  with  the  groups  of  tall  trees,  the 
bridges,  the  herbaceous  borders,  and  the  wealth  of 
flowering  shrubs,  make  the  garden  altogether  one  of 
singular   charm    considering   it  is  even   more  truly   "  in 


PRIVATE   GARDENS  355 

the  midst  of  a  great  city"  than  when  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  described  the  same  spot  nearly  200  years 
ago. 

The  Buckingham  Palace  Gardens  show  how  much 
judicious  planting  can  do,  and  how  much  is  lost  in 
many  of  the  parks  as  well  as  gardens  by  not  suffici- 
ently considering  the  decorative  value  of  plants.  The 
old  landscape  gardeners,  in  their  desire  to  copy  nature 
and  depart  from  all  formality,  forgot  the  horticultural 
part  of  their  work  in  their  plans  for  the  creation  of 
landscapes.  They  had  not  studied  the  effects  "which 
skilful  planting  will  produce,  and  ignored  flowers  as  a 
factor  in  their  scenery.  They  had  not  got  the  wealth 
of  genera  which  the  twentieth  century  possesses,  and  of 
which,  in  many  instances,  full  use  is  made.  But  in  a 
review  of  London  Parks  and  Gardens,  it  is  impossible 
not  to  notice  effects  missed  as  well  as  success  achieved. 
The  immense  advance  gardening  has  made  of  late  years, 
and  the  knowledge  and  wide  range  of  plants,  makes  it 
easier  to  garden  now  than  ever  before.  The  enormous 
number  of  trees  and  flowers  now  in  cultivation  leaves  a 
good  choice  to  select  from,  even  among  those  suitable 
for  the  fog-begrimed  gardens  of  London.  The  carpets 
of  spring  flowering  bulbs,  the  masses  of  brilliant  rhodo- 
dendrons, the  groups  of  choice  blossoming  trees,  which 
so  greatly  beautify  many  of  the  parks  and  gardens,  are 
all  the  result  of  modern  developments.  Experience,  too, 
has  pointed  out  the  mistakes  in  landscape  gardening, 
which  is  for  the  most  part  the  style  followed  in  London, 
and  it  should  be  easy  to  avoid  the  errors  of  earlier 
generations.  In  formal  designing,  also,  the  recent  in- 
troductions and  modern  taste  in  flowers  should  have  a 
marked  influence.     In  all  the  parks  and  gardens,  public 


356     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

and  private,  the  chief  aim  should  be  to  make  the  best 
use  of  the  existing  material,  to  draw  upon  the  vast 
resources  of  horticulture,  which  have  never  been  so  great 
as  at  the  present  time,  and  thus  to  maintain  the  position 
of  superiority  of  London  gardens  among  the  cities  of 
the  world. 


APPENDIX    TO    PRIVATE 
GARDENS 


CHARLTON 

WING  to  unavoidable  circum- 
stances it  was  not  possible  to 
include  Charlton  in  the  foregoing 
chapter  on  private  gardens,  but 
some  account  of  this  place  of 
historic  interest  is  necessary  to 
complete  this  book.  Further 
from  the  centres  of  fashion,  on 
the  eastern  limits  of  London,  it  has  not  been  the  scene 
of  such  brilliant  assemblies  as  Holland  House  on  the 
west ;  yet  its  early  days  share  that  speculative  fascination 
which  gathers  round  the  personality  of  Henry,  Prince  of 
Wales,  who  figures  for  such  a  short  time  on  the  pages  of 
English  history.  Only  two  miles  from  Greenwich,  in  the 
hundred  of  Blackheath,  lies  the  manor  of  Charlton,  which 
was  bestowed  by  William  the  Conqueror  on  his  half- 
brother,  Odo  of  Bayeux.  Later  on  it  passed  by  gift  to 
the  Priory  of  Bermondsey,  and  so  remained  until  the  Dis- 
solution of  the  Monasteries,  when  it  became  crown  land 
until  James  L  gave  it  to  Sir  Adam  Newton,  "  who  built 
a  goodly  brave  house  "  thereon.  Born  in  Scotland,  Sir 
Adam  had  spent  much  of  his  life  in  France,  and  passing 
himself  off  as  a  priest,  had  taught  Greek  at  St.  Maixant 
in  Poitou.     On  his  return  to  Scotland  in   1600,  he  was 

357 


358     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

appointed  tutor  to  Prince  Henry,  and  was  in  attendance 
on  him  as  secretary  when  the  Prince  grew  up.  In  1607 
he  commenced  to  build  Charlton  for  him,  Inigo  Jones 
being  the  architect,  and  after  the  Prince's  death  in  161 2, 
the  King  granted  Sir  Adam  the  manor,  in  lieu  of  pay- 
ment for  the  expenses  he  had  incurred  in  building  the 
house.  The  owner  of  Charlton  continued  to  enjoy  royal 
favour,  became  Treasurer  of  the  Household  to  Prince 
Charles,  was  created  a  baronet  in  1620,  and  married  a 
daughter  of  Sir  John  Puckering,  who  had  been  Keeper  of 
the  Great  Seal  to  Queen  Elizabeth.  His  second  son,  Sir 
Henry  Newton,  who  succeeded  him  at  Charlton,  and  took 
the  name  of  Puckering  from  estates  inherited  from  his 
uncle,  was  an  ardent  supporter  of  Charles  I.  He  sold 
the  property  to  Sir  William  Ducie,  Viscount  Downe,  at 
whose  death  it  was  again  sold.  The  purchaser,  Sir 
William  Langhorne,  was  a  wealthy  East  India  merchant, 
who  was,  from  1670  to  1677,  Governor  of  Madras.  On 
his  death  it  passed  by  entail  to  his  cousin  Mrs.  Maryon, 
and  eventually  to  her  great-granddaughter,  the  wife  of 
Sir  Thomas  Spencer  Wilson,  in  whose  family  Charlton 
still  remains. 

The  gardens  show  traces  of  all  the  many  owners,  and 
in  spite  of  the  growth  of  London  and  its  attendant  draw- 
backs, they  are  still  charming.  The  house  stands  in 
about  150  acres  of  undulating  deer  park,  with  some  fine 
old  trees,  an  avenue  of  English  elms  on  the  east,  and  one 
of  horse-chestnuts,  forming  the  approach  on  the  west. 
Perhaps  the  planting  of  the  tulip  tree  near  the  present 
lodge  was  due  to  John  Evelyn,  the  friend  of  Sir  Henry 
Puckering.  Evelyn's  liking  for  tulip  trees  is  well  known, 
and  this  specimen  looks  old  enough  to  claim  his  acquaint- 
ance.    The  two  shattered  but  grand  old  mulberry  trees 


CHARLTON  359 

probably  date  from  the  year  1609,  when  James  I. 
encouraged  all  his  subjects  to  plant  them,  and  tradition 
points  to  one  as  the  first  brought  to  England.  There  is 
an  immense  horse-chestnut  on  the  lawn,  with  a  wide 
spread  of  branches  which  are  rooted  in  the  ground  all 
round,  and  among  the  evergreen  oaks  and  other  attrac- 
tive trees  in  the  "  Wilderness,"  a  Judas  of  great  age  is 
remarkable.  The  small  house  standing  near  the  road 
which  passes  the  parish  church,  known  as  the  "  Guard 
House,"  recalls  the  time  when  Prince  Henry  was  living 
there,  and  his  guard  of  honour  kept  watch  near  the 
entrance.  The  stables  are  just  as  they  were  built  by 
Inigo  Jones,  and  the  little  "  Dutch  "  walled  garden  which 
adjoins  them  on  one  side  is  also  a  pretty  relic  of  those 
days,  and  the  "  Gooseberry  Garden  "  near  it  is  a  survival 
of  the  same  period.  A  walk  overshadowed  by  tall  yew 
trees  stretches  across  and  along  the  main  part  of  the 
grounds,  and  hidden  away  near  its  southern  end  is  a  de- 
lightful rose  garden.  The  beautiful  lead  fountain  in  the 
centre  must  have  been  put  there  by  Sir  William  Lang- 
horne.  His  initials  appear  on  the  leaden  tank,  and  the 
spray  rises  from  a  basin  held  up  by  a  charming  little 
cupid  standing  on  a  pedestal  surrounded  by  swans.  The 
same  group  appears  without  the  tank  in  another  part  of 
the  garden,  and  there  are  lead  vases  and  figures,  and  a 
cistern  dated  1777,  which  add  greatly  to  the  old-world 
charm  which  still  lingers.  Chemical  works  and  sul- 
phurous fumes  now  work  deadly  havoc  among  the  old 
trees,  but  everything  that  modern  science  can  recommend 
is  done  to  preserve  them,  and  young  ones  planted  to 
keep  up  the  traditions,  and  bridge  over  the  centuries 
dividing  the  present  from  the  days  of  Prince  Henry  and 
his  learned  and  courtly  tutor. 


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the  Dowager  Duchess  of  Argyll.      1907. 

Baker,  T.  H.      Records  of  Seasons  and  Prices. 
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„  and  St.  Giles.     George  Cluich.      1890. 

Bradley,   Richard.      New    Improvements    of  Planting   and    Gardening. 

1717. 
Burial  Grounds,  London.     Mrs.  Basil  Holmes.      1896. 
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„  Ye  Parish  of  Camerwell.     W.H.Blanch.      1875. 

Catesby,  Mark.      Natural  History  of  CaroHna.      1731-43. 

„  ,,  Hortus  Europse  Americanus.      1767. 

Chelsea.     Memoirs  of  the  Botanic  Garden.      Henry  Field.      1820. 

„  ,,  ,,  ,,  Ed.    by    R.    H.    Semple. 

1878. 

„  An  Account  of  Chelsea  Hospital.      1805. 

„  Historical  Notes.      Isabella  Burt.      187 1. 

„  Hospital.      Thomas  Faulkener.      1805. 

„  Thomas  Faulkener.      1810. 

Cleveland.     Character  of  a  London  Diurnal.      1647. 

,,  Poems,  annotated  by  J.  M.  Berden.      1903. 

Cole,  John,      A  Pleasant  and  Profitable  Journey  to  London.      1828. 

361 


362     LONDON    PARKS    &    GARDENS 

Commons.     A  Glance  at  the  Commons  and  Open  Spaces  of  London. 

1867. 
Curtis,  William.     Botanical  Magazine.      1 787-1906. 

„  ,,  A   Catalogue   of   the   Plants    Growing  Wild   in   the 

Environs  of  London.      1774.  - 
„  ,,  Flora  Londinensis.      1777-1828. 

Dennis,  John.     The  Landscape  Gardener.      1835. 

Domesday  Book.     Ed.  1S12. 

Draper,  W.  H.     The  Morning  Walk;  or.  City  Encompass'd.      1751. 

Evelyn,  John.     Diary. 

„  ,,  Sylva.      1664. 

Fairchild,  Thomas.     The  City  Gardener.      1722. 

Fiennes,  Celia.      Through   England  on  a  Side-Saddle  in  the  Time  of 

William  and  Mary.      Ed.  Hon.  Mrs.  Griffiths.      1888. 
Foreign  Visitors  to  England.      Smith.      1889. 
Fulham,  Old  and  New.     C.  J.  Feret.      1900. 
,,       and  Hammersmith.      Faulkener.      1813. 

Gardeners'  Magazine.     Conducted  by  J.  C.  Loudon.      1826-43. 
Gardening.      History  of,  in  England.     Alicia  Amherst.      1896. 
Gerard.     Herbal.      1597. 

„  „  Ed.  by  T.  Johnson.      1633. 

„  Catalogus.      1599. 

Greenwich.     W.  Howarth.      1886. 

„  and  Blackheath.     Half  Holiday  Hand-book  Series.     1881. 

„  Park  :   Its  History  and  Associations.     Angus  D.  Webster. 

1902. 
„  The  Palace  and  Hospital.    A.  G.  K.  L'Estrange.     1886. 

Grosley.     A  Tour  to  London.      1765. 

Hackney.     Magazine  and  Parish  Reformer.      1833-38. 

„  Collecteanea  Geographica,  &c.      1842. 

„  History  and  Antiquities  of.     William  Robinson.      1842. 

Hawthorne,  Nathaniel.      Passages  from  English  Note-Books.      1870. 
Hazlitt,  W.  C.      Gleanings  in  Old  Garden  Literature.      1887. 
Highgate,  History  of.     Frederick  Prickett.      1842. 
Hook,  Dean  of  Chichester.      Lives  of  the  Archbishops  of  Canterbury. 

1875. 
Hyde  Park,  from  Domesday  to  Date.     J.  Ashton.      1900. 


LIST   OF    BOOKS  363 

Index  Kewensis.      1893,  &c. 

Inns  of  Court.     Inner  Temple  Records.     F.  A.  Inderwick.      1896. 

Inner    and     Middle    Temple.       H.     H.     L.     Bellot. 
1902. 
„  „  Lincoln's  Inn,     Douthwaite.      1886. 

„  „  Gray's  Inn.      Douthwaite.      1886. 

„  „  and  Chancery.    W.  J.  Loft^e.    Illustrations  by  Herbert 

Railton.      1893. 
Islington.     History  of  the  Parish  of  St.  Mary.     S.Lewis.      1842. 
Issue  Rolls.     James  I.,  &c. 

Lamb,  Charles,  Life  of.     E,  V.  Lucas.      1905. 
Lambeth,  History  of.     Ducarel.      1785. 

„  „  Thomas  Allen.      1828. 

„  Palace  and  its  Associations.     J.  C.  Browne.      1883. 

Laud,  Archbishop's,  Diary. 
Loimographia:   An    Account   of    the   Great    Plague.      W.    Boghurst. 

1894. 
London,  Ancient  and  Modern,  from  a  Sanitary  Point  of  View.      G.  V. 
Poore.      1889. 

„        Birds  and  Insects.     T.  D.  Pigott.      1892. 

„       Botanic  Gardens.     Pierre  E.  F.  Perredes.     Pub.  by  Wellcome 
Chemical  Research  Laboratories.     No.  62. 

„        Bygone.      F.  Ross.      1892. 

„        City  Suburbs  as  they  are  To-Day.      1893. 

„        City  :   Its  History,  &c.     W.  J.  Loftie. 

„        Curiosities  of.     Timbs.      1868. 

„        Environs  of.      Daniel  Lysons.      1790-96. 

„        Familiar.     J.  C.  L'Estrange.      1890. 

„        Fascination  of.      Series  ed.  by  Sir  W.  Besant. 

„        Flora.     Alexander  Irvine.      1838. 

„       Garland.     W.  E.  Henley.      1895. 

„        Greater.     E.  Walford.     1893-95. 

„        Hand-book  of.     Peter  Cunningham.      1850. 

„        Highways  and  Byways  in.     Mrs.  E.  T.  Cook.      1903. 

„       History  of.     Noorthouck.     1773. 

J,  „  William  Maitland.      1756. 

„  Plantagenet,  Tudor  Times,  &c.      Sir  W.  Besant. 

„        Illustrata.     Wilkinson. 

„        Its  Neighbourhood,  &c.     Hughson  David.      1805-9. 


364     LONDON    PARKS    Gf    GARDENS 

London,  Journey  to.     John  Cole.      1825. 

Knight,  Charles.      Revised  by  E.  Walford. 

Life  Seen  Through  German  Eyes.      Brand.      1887. 

Memories.      C.  W.  Heckethorne.      1900. 

Our  Rambles  in  Old.      E.  S.  M.  Smith.      1895. 

Pageant  of.      Richard  Davey.      1906. 

Past  and  Present.    H.  B.  Wheatley  and  P.  Cunningham.     189 1. 

Pleasure    Gardens  of  the    Eighteenth    Century.      W.    Wroth. 

1896. 
Redivivium.     James  Peter  Malcolm.      1807. 
Reliques   of  Old    London    and    Suburbs.      H.    B.    Wheatley. 

1896. 
Round  About.      W.  J.  Loftee.      1893. 

Signs  and  Inscriptions.      Wheatley  and  Philip  Norman.      1893. 
Some  Account  of.     Thomas  Pennant.      1793. 
Soul  of.      F.  H.  Madox  HeufFer.      1905. 
Story  of.      H.  B.  Wheatley.      1904. 

Survey    of.       (London    County    Council.)       C.    R.    Ashb.e. 
1900. 
,,  Stowe.     Several  Editions.      1598,  1633,  Sec. 

ofTo-Day.      C.  E.  Pascoe.      1885. 
Town.     Marcus  Fall.      1880. 
Vanished  and  Vanishing.      P.  Norman.      1905. 
Vestiges  of  Old.     Archer  J.  Wykeham.      185 1. 
Walks  Through,      Hughson  David.      1817. 
,,       In.      Augustus  Hare.      1901. 
Londres  et  Les  Anglais  en  1771.     Join  Lambert.      1890. 
London,  G.,  and  H.  Wise.     Complete  Gardener.      1701. 
Loudon,  J.  C.      Arboretum.      1838. 

„  Encyclopaedia  of  Gardening.      1822. 

„  „  of  Plants.      1838. 

„  Gardeners'  Magazine. 

„  Laying  Out,  &c.,  of  Cemetries.      1843. 

Magaiotti.     Travels  of  Cosmo  III.,  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  through 

England,  1669.      1821. 
Maitland,  William.     History  and  Survey  of  London.      1756. 
Marylebone,  Random  Sketches  in.     F.  H.  Hallam.      1885. 

„  and  St.  Pancras.     G.  Cluich.      1890. 

Mayfair  and  Belgravia.     G.  Cluich.      1892. 


LIST   OF   BOOKS  365 

Miller,  Philip.      Gardeners'  and  Florists'  Dictionary.      1724. 

,,  „  „  Dictionary.      1759. 

Mirabeau.      Letters  during  his  Residence  in  England.      1832. 
Misson,  H.      Memoirs  and  Observations  in  his  Travels  over  England. 

Translated  by  Mr.  Ozell.      17 19. 
Montagu,  Letters  of  Mrs.  E.      1809-13. 

,,  Mrs.  E,      By  J.  Doran.      1873. 

Montgomerie,  James.      Chimney  Sweepers'  Friend.      1824. 
Municipal  History,  Bibliography  of.     Cross.      1897. 

Nichol.     Progress  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 
Nisfbet,  J.      British  Forest  Trees.      1895. 

Norden.      Notes  on   his   Map  of  London,    1593.      H.    B.   Wheatley. 
1877. 

Open  Lands,  Inclosure  and  Preservation  of.      Sir  Robert  Hunter.     Re- 
print.     1897. 

Parliamentary  Reports — 

Committee  on  the  Public  Parks,  &c.      1887. 

,,  „       Best  Means  of  Preserving  .   .  .   Use  of  Forests, 

Commons,  &c.      1865. 
Other  Reports  :  see  Catalogue  of  Parliamentary  Papers,  1801-1908. 

P.  and  S.  King  &  Co. 
Plan    of    Improvements    proposed    opposite    Buckingham    Palace. 

1850. 
Return  of  the  Outlay  on  Battersea  Park.      1856. 
Select  Committee  on  Open  Spaces.      1865. 
Parks,  Gardens,  &c.,  of  London.      Edward  Kemp.      1851. 

„       Hyde  Park,  from  Domesday  to  Date.     J.  Ashton.      1896. 
„       Municipal,  and  Gardens.      Lieut.-Col.  J.  G.  Sexby.      1905. 
„       and  Pleasure  Grounds.     C.  H.  J.  Smith.      1852. 
„  ,,     Open  Spaces.      London  County  Council  Sixpenny  Guide. 

1906. 
J,  „  „  and  Thoroughfares.      A.  M'Kenzie.      1869. 

,,       Royal,  and  Gardens.      N.  Cole.      1877. 
,,       Story  of  the  London.     Jacob  Lar wood.      1872. 
Parkinson,  John.     Paradise  in  Sole.      1629. 
Pepys,  Samuel.     Diary. 
Piccadilly  and  Pall  Mall,  Round  About.     H.  B.  Wheatley.      18 17. 


366     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Philips,  Henry.     Sylva  Florifera.      1823.      Flora  Historica,  &c. 

Phillips,  Sir  Richard,     Morning  Walk  to  Kew.      181 7. 

Pukeney,    Richard.     History  of  the   Progress  of  Botany  in    England. 

1790. 
Pyne,  Wm.  H.     History  of  the  Royal  Residences.      18 19. 

Regent's  Park.     Some  Account  of  the  Improvements.      18 14. 

„  „  „  „         „         .     John  White.      181 5. 

„  ,,  Literary  Pocket  Book.      1823. 

,,  ,,  Picturesque  Guide  to.      1829. 

Repton.      Landscape  Gardening.      Ed.  J.  C.  Loudon.      1840. 

St.  Botolph,  Aldgate.     A.  G.  B.  Atkinson.      1898, 
St.  James's  Square.      Dasent.      1895. 
Selby,  P.  J.      British  Forest  Trees.      1841. 
Shipton,  Mother.     Life  and  Death  of.      1687. 

„  „  Prophecies.      Ed.  E.  Pearson.      187 1. 

„  „  „  C.  Hindley.      1877. 

Soho,  Two  Centuries  of.     J.  H.  Cardwell.      1898. 

„      and  its  Associations.      E.  F.  Rimbault.      1895. 
Sorbiere,    Samuel    de.       A   Journey  to    London.       [] William    King.] 

1698. 
„  „  A  Voyage  to  England.      1 709. 

„  „  Journey  to  London.      1832. 

„  ,,  Reponse  aux  Faussetes  .   .    .  dans  la  relation 

du  Voyage  en  Angleterre.      1675. 
Stepney.     Two  Centuries  of  History.     W.  H.  Frere.      1892. 
Stowe.     Survey  of  London.      1 598. 
„  Munday's  Edition.      1633. 

„  Strype's  Edition.      1720. 

Suburban  Reliques  of  Old  Londons.      H.  B,  Wheatley.     Drawn  by 

T.  R.  Way.     171 5. 
Switzer,  Stephen.     Nobleman,  Gentleman,  and  Gardener's  Recreation. 
1715. 

Tradescant,  John.     Museum  Tradescantianum.      1656. 
Trinity  Hospital,  Mile  End  Road.     C.  R.  Ashbee.      1896. 

Westminster,  Antiquities  of.     John  T.  Smith.      1807. 
„  Abbey.     W.  J.  Loftie.      1890. 


LIST   OF    BOOKS  367 

Westminster  Abbey.     Dean  Stanley. 

„  ,,  MSS.  Records. 

„  „  Richard  Widmore.      1751- 

„  Memorials    of  the    City,   St.   Peter's    College,  &c.      Rev. 

MacKenzie  E.  C.  Walcott.      1849. 
Wheatley.     Observations  on  Modern  Gardening.      I793- 
Whitten,  W.     London  in  Song.      1898. 
Wren,  Christopher.     Parentalia.      1750. 


HYDE    PARK    AND    KENSINGTON    GARDENS 


LIST   OF    TREES   AND   SHRUBS 

N.B. — Those  marked  thus  *  are  not  in  existence  at  the  present  time. 
A  small  number  proved  unsuitable  for  London,  and  others  have  been 
removed  from  the  plantations  for  various  reasons. 


Acer  campestre. 
„     circinatum. 
,,     creticum. 
„     dasycarpum. 
„     macrophyllum. 
„     Negundo. 

,,  ,,         foliis  variegatis. 

,,     palmatum. 
,,     platanoides. 
„  „  Reitenbachii. 

„  „  Schwedleri. 

,,     Pseudo-platanus. 
„  ,,  „     foliis  variegatis. 

„  ,,         „     purpureum. 

,,     rubrum. 
„     saccharum. 
,,     saccharum  nigrum. 
,,     tartaricum. 
jEscuIus  Hippocastanum. 

,,  ,,  laciniata. 

„  „  rubicunda. 

Ailantus  glandulosa. 
Alnus  barbata. 
,,     cordifolia. 
,,     glutinosa. 
,,  ,,  incisa. 

,,  „  laciniata. 

„  ,,  quercifolia. 

Amorpha  fruticosa. 
Amygdalus  (Prunus)  communis. 

amara 


Amygdalus  communis  macrocarpa. 

,,  nana. 

Amelanchier  canadensis. 

„  vulgaris. 

Aralia  chinensis. 

„      spinosa. 
Arbutus  Andrachne. 
,,        L^nedo. 
„  „       rubra. 

Aristolochia  Sipho. 
Armeniaca  (Prunus)  sibirica. 
Artemisia  arborescens. 
Asimina  triloba. 
Aucuba  japonica. 

,,  ,,  maculata. 

,,  ,,  viridis. 

Azalea  (Rhododendron)  sinense. 
„       pontica. 
,,      nudiflorum. 


Berberis  Aquifolium. 
„        Darwinii. 
,,        Fortunei. 
*        „        japonica. 
„       repens. 
,,        stenophylla. 
,,        vulgaris. 

„  ,,       foliis  purpureis. 

Betula  alba. 

,,         ,,     pendula. 
368:: 


LIST   OF   TREES    &   SHRUBS       369 


Betula  fruticosa. 

,,      lenta. 

,,      nana. 

„      nigra. 

„      populifolia. 

,,      urticifolia. 
Buxus  balearica. 

,,      caucasica. 

,,      sempervirens  arborescens. 

„  „  aureo-marginita, 

Caragana  arborescens. 

,,        Chamluga. 

,,        frutescens. 

,,  spinosa. 
Carpinus  betulus. 
Carya  amara. 

Caryopteris  Mastacanthus. 
Castanea  sativa. 
Catalpa  bignonioides. 
*Cedrus  Deodora. 

,,        Libani. 
Cerasus.      See  Prunus. 
Cercis  Siliquastrum. 
Cistus  florentinus. 
„     ladaniferus. 
„     monspeliensis. 
Clematis  Flammula. 

,,        Jackmani. 

,,        montana. 

,,        Vitalba. 
Celtis  Tournefortii. 
Clerodendron  trichotomum. 
Colutea  arborescens. 
Cornus  alba. 

,,       „       Spaethii. 

„     Mas. 

,,        ,,       aurea  elegantissima. 

„        „       yariegata. 

,,        sanguinea. 

,,       stolonifera. 
Coronilla  Emerus. 
Coryllus  Avellana. 

„        maxima  atropurpurea. 
Cotoneaster  acuminata. 
,,  bacillaris. 


Cotoneaster  frigida. 

„  horizontalis. 

„  microphylla. 

„  Nummularia. 

,,  Simmonsii. 

Crataegus  altaica. 

,,  Azarolus. 

„  coccinea. 

,,  cordata. 

„  ,,         accrifolia. 

,,  ,,         maxima. 

,,  Crus-galli. 
,,  ,,         ovalifolium. 

,,  „         pyracanthafolia. 

„  „         splendens. 

,,  dippeliana. 

,,  heterophylla. 

,,  macrantha. 

„  nigra. 

,,  orientalis. 

„  Oxyacantha. 
„  „    aurea. 

„  „    eriocarpa. 

„  „    flexuosa. 

,,  „    flore  pleno  albo. 

,,  „     flora  pleno  coccineo. 

,,  „     flore  pleno  puniceo. 

„  „    flore  pleno  roseo. 

„  ,,    flore  pleno  rubro. 

„  ,,    flore  roseo. 

„  ,,     laciniata. 

„  ,,    pendula. 

„  ,,    prjecox. 

„  ,,    quercifolia. 

„  ,,    striata. 

,,  punctata. 
,,  ,,     brevispina. 

,,  ,,    xanthocarpa. 

,,  pyracantha. 
„  ,,     Lalandi. 

,,  siniaca. 

,,  spathulata. 

„  tanacetifolia. 
*Cupressus  Lawsoniana. 

*  ,,  Nootkatensis. 

*  ,,  sempervirens. 

2  A 


370 


LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 


Cydonia  japonica. 

„        Maulel. 

,,       vulgaris  lusitanica. 

„  ,,       maliformis. 

Cytisus  albus. 

,,       alpinus. 

„       nigricans. 

,,      prsecox. 

,,      racemosus. 

,,       scoparius. 

,,      sessilifolius. 

,,      tinctoria. 

Daphne  Mezereum. 

„       pontica. 
Diospyros  T^otus. 

„         virginiana. 
Diplopappus  chrysophylla. 
Deutzia  crenata. 

,,  „        flore  pleno. 

„  „        gracilis. 

„       scabra. 

Elasagnus  angustifolia. 

,,         argentea. 
Euonymus  europasus. 

,,  „       fructo  albo. 

„         japonicus. 

„  „       argenteus. 

„  ,,        aureo-variegatus. 

„  ,,       radicans. 

,,  ,,  ,,    foliis  pictis. 

,,         latifolius. 

Fagus  sylvatica. 

„  „       cupren. 

,,  ,,        pendula. 

„  „       purpurea. 

„  „  „         pendula. 

Fatsia  japonica. 
Ficus  Carica. 
Fontanesia  phillyrseoides. 
Forsythia  intermedia. 
,,         suspensa. 
,,         viridissima. 
Fraxinus  americana  cinerea. 


Fraxinus  americana  elliptica. 
,,  ,,         juglandifolia. 

,,  excelsior. 
„  ,,  angustifolia. 

„  „  aurea. 

,,  ,,      -    heterophylla. 

,,  ,,  pendula. 

,,  Ornus. 

,,  ,,       angustifolia. 

,,  parvifolia. 

Genista  hispanica. 
Gleditschia  triacanthos. 

,,  sinensis. 

„  „        nana. 

Gymnocladus  canadensis. 

Halesia  diptera, 

„       tetraptera. 
Halimodendron  argenteum. 
Hamamelis  virginica. 
Hedera  Helix. 

,,  ,,       arborescens. 

„  ,,       caenwoodiana. 

,,  ,,       canariensis. 

„  ,,  ,,       arborescens. 

„  ,,       chrysocarpa. 

,,  ,,       colchica. 

,,  „       dentata. 

,,  ,,       digitata. 

,,  ,,       lucida. 

,,  ,,       maderensis  variegata. 

„  ,,       minima. 

„  ,,       taurica. 

„  „       variegata. 

Hibiscus  syriacus — 

and  numerous  garden  varieties. 
Hippophas  rhamnoides. 

,,  salicifolia. 

Hydrangea  hortensia. 

,,  paniculata  grandiflora. 

Hypericum  calycinum. 
,,  elatum. 

,,  hircinum. 

,,  patulum. 


LIST    OF   TREES    &    SHRUBS       371 


Ilex  Aquifolium. 


albo-picta. 

altaclerense. 

angustifolia. 

,,     variegata. 
argentea  variegata. 
argenceamarginata, 
aureo-picta. 
aureo-regina. 
balearica. 
camelliaefolia. 
ferox. 

,,     argentea. 

,,     aurea. 
fructo  luteo. 
heterophylla. 
Hodginsii. 
latispina. 
laurifolia. 
myrtifolia. 
recurva. 
scotica. 
Shepherdii, 
Watereriana. 


dipyrena 
latifolia. 
opaca. 


Jasminum  fruticans. 

,,        humile. 

,,        nudiflorum. 

,,        officinale. 
*Juniperus  chinensis. 

*  „  communis. 

*  ,,  nana. 

„  Sabina  tamariscifolia. 

,,  ,,      procumbens. 

*  „  virginiana. 
Juglans  cinerea. 

„      nigra. 
,,       regia. 


Kerria  japonica. 
Koelreuteria  paniculata. 

Laburnum  alpinum. 
,,         vulgare. 


Laburnum  vulgare  quercifolium. 

„  ,,      Watereri. 

Laurus  nobilis. 
Leycesteria  formosa. 
Ligustrum  Ibota. 

,,  japonicum. 

,,  lucidum. 

„  ovalifolium. 

,,  ,,  foliis  aureis. 

„  Quihoui. 

„  vulgare. 

Liquidamber  styraciflua. 
Liriodendron  tulipifera. 
Lonicera  Caprifolium. 
,,         flexuosa. 
,,         involucrata. 
,,         Periclymenum. 
Lycium  chinense. 
*     „       hamilifolium. 


Soulangeana. 


Magnolia  acuminata. 
,,         conspicua. 

M  'J 

,,         grandiflora. 

„         stellata. 
Morus  alba. 

,,        „    pendula. 
„      nigra. 


Osmanthus  Aquifolium  ilicifolius. 

Pavia  (^sculus)  flava. 
,,  ,,  purpurascens. 

,,  glabra  arguta. 

,.  humulis. 

5,  neglecta. 

„  parvifolia. 

,,  rubra. 

Philadelphus  coronarius. 

,,  „  tomentosus. 

„  floribundus. 

yf  „  verrucosus. 

„  Gordonianus. 

„  grandiflorus  floribundus. 

„  hirsutus. 

„  inodorus. 


372     LONDON   PARKS    &   GARDENS 


Philadelphus  Lemoinei. 
Phillyrea  angustifolium. 

,,         decora. 

,,  latifolia. 
Photinia  serrulata. 
*Pinus  cembra. 

*  ,,      insignis. 

*  ,,      Laricio. 
,,      sylvestris. 

*Planera  aquatica. 
'•'  ,,  Richardi. 
Platanus  accrifolia. 
Populus  alba. 

„         „     pyramidalis  (bolleana). 

,,       balsamifera. 

,,        canescens. 

,,        deltoidea. 

,,  ,,         aurea. 

„        macrophylla. 

„        nigra. 

,,  J,     betulasfolia. 

,,  „     pyramidalis. 

,,       tremula. 

„  ,,       pendula. 

Prunus  including  Cerasus  and  persica. 

,,     persica  camelliaeflora. 

,,  „       flore  roseo  pleno. 

,,  ,,  „     alba  pleno. 

,,  „       dianthiflora  pleno. 

„     Avium. 

,,  ,,       flore  pleno. 

,,  „       pendula. 

,,     cerasifera. 

,,  ,,        atropurpureum. 

,,     communis. 

,,     (Cerasus)  acidasemperflorens. 

,,     japonicas  flore  roseo  pleno. 

,,     pseudo-cerasus. 

„      (Padus)  Mahaleb. 

„  ,,       pendula. 

„     Padus. 

„      rotundifolia. 

„     serotina. 

,,     (Laurocerasus)  caucasica. 

,,  „  colchica. 

„  ,,  Laurocerasus. 


Prunus  (Laurocerasus)  lusitanica, 
,,     serrulata. 
,,     spinosa. 
,,      triloba. 
„     Watereri. 
Ptelea  trifoliata. 
Pterocarya  caucasica. 
Pyrus  Aria. 

,,         ,,    salicifolia. 

,,         ,,    undulata. 

,,     amygdaliformis. 

„     arbutifolia. 

,,     Aucuparia. 

,,     auricularis. 

,,     baccatd. 

,,     communis. 

,,     floribunda. 

„     hybrida. 

,,     intermedia. 

,,     lanata. 

,,     malus  astracanica. 

,,     nivalis. 

,,     pinnatifida, 

„     rivularis. 

,,     spectabilis. 

Quercus  -^gilop?. 
cerris. 

,,       cana-major. 

,,       cana-minor. 

„       fulhamensis. 
coccinea. 
fastigiata. 
filicifolia. 
Ilex. 

,,     Gramuntia. 
lucombeana. 
palustris. 
pedunculata. 

„  fastigiata, 

rubra. 

„      longifolia. 
Suber. 

Rhamnus  Alaternus  maculata. 
,,  alpina. 


LIST    OF    TREES    &    SHRUBS      373 


Rhamnus  cathartica. 

Rosa  rubiginosa. 

„          Frangula. 

„     rugosa. 

„         infectoria. 

„          „       flore  pleno. 

Rhododendron  Cunninghami. 

,,     wichuraiana. 

„              dauricum. 

,,     hybrids  in  variety. 

„              hybrids  in  variety. 

Rosmarinus  officinalis. 

„             ponticum. 

Rubus  fruticosus. 

,,              praecox. 

„             ,,         albo-pleno. 

Rhus  canadensis. 

„             „         rubra-pleno. 

,,      copallina. 

„      laciniatus. 

„      cotinus. 

„      nutkanus. 

„      glabra  laciniata. 

Ruscus  aculeatus. 

,,      typhina. 

,,           ,,        frutescens. 

Salisburia  (Ginkgo)  adiantifolia. 

Ribes  alpinum. 

Salix  alba. 

,,            ,,        pumilum. 

,,      babylonica. 

.,      aureuni. 

„      Caprea. 

„           „       praecox. 

,,      daphnoides. 

,,      Diacantha. 

,,      rosmarinifolia. 

„      nigrum  variegatum. 

,,      viminalis. 

,,      Sanguineum. 

Sambucus  nigra. 

„                „            albidum. 

„              „      laciniata. 

Robinia  hispida. 

„             „      foliis  aureis. 

„        inermis. 

,,          racemosa. 

,,        Pseudacacia. 

„                 ,,         plumosa. 

„                  „         angustifolium. 

„                „               „        aurea 

„                  ,,          bessoniana. 

Skimmia  Fortunei. 

„                  ,,          Decaisneana. 

„       japonica. 

„                  ,,          dubea. 

Spartium  junceum. 

„                  „          elegans. 

Smilax  aspera. 

„                 „         fastigiata. 

„       glauca. 

„                  „          heterophylla. 

,,       rotundifolia. 

„                 „         inermis. 

Sophora  japonica. 

„                  „          monophylla. 

Spiraea  bullata. 

„                 „         semperflorens. 

„       canescens. 

,,                 „         tortuosa. 

*   ,,       cantoniensis. 

„        viscosa. 

*  ,,       chamjedrifolia. 

Rosa  arvensis. 

*  ,,       discolor. 

„     Banksiae. 

*  ,,       japonica. 

„     canina. 

,,              ,,        Bumalda. 

„     damascena. 

,,       prunifolia  flore  pleno. 

„     gallica  centifolia. 

„       salicifolia. 

,,         ,,      muscosa. 

,,       sorbifolia. 

„     indica. 

„       Thunbergii. 

„     multiflora. 

Symphoricarpus  orbiculatus. 

„     noisettiana. 

„              racemosus. 

374     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 


Syringa  Emodi. 
,,  Josikasa. 
,,       persica. 


ilba. 


,,       vulgaris. 
And  many  garden  varieties. 

Taxodium  distichum. 
Taxus  baccata. 

),  ,,        adpressa. 

j»  >»  »>         aurea. 

„  ,,        Dovastoni. 

,,  ,,      .  fastigiata. 

„  ,,        fructo  luteo. 

,,       canadensis. 

,,       cuspidata. 
*Thuja  dolobrata. 

*  ,,      japonica. 

,,      occidentalis. 

,,      orientalis. 

5,  ,,         aureo-variegata. 

*  ,,      plicata. 
Tilia  americana. 

„  argentea. 

,,  cordata. 

,,  dasystyla. 

,,  petiolaris. 

,,  platyphyllus  asplenifolia. 

„  vulgaris. 

Ulex  europieus. 

5j  ,,         flora  pleno. 

,,     nanus. 
Ulmus  americanus. 

)>  ,,  pendula. 

,,       campestris. 

5>  ,,        Louis  van  Houtte. 


Ulmus  campestris  sarniensis. 
„  „        Wheatleyi. 

„  glabra. 

„  ,,       cornubiensis. 

„  ,,     striata. 

,,  montana.   ' 
,,  ,,        atropurpureum. 

„  ,,        fastigiata  aurea, 

,,  ,,        pendula. 

„  ,,        vegeta.   . 

,,  pedunculata. 

Veronica  cupressoides. 

,,         Traversii. 
Viburnum  dentatum. 

„         Lantana. 

,,  Lentago. 

,,  Opulus. 

,,  „       sterile. 

,,  Tinus. 

,,  „       hirtum. 

,,         plicatum. 

Weigela  (Diervilla)  florida. 

,,  hybrida. 

,,  Looymansi  aurea. 

Wistaria  chinensis. 

„        multijuga. 

*Xanthorrhiza  apiifolia. 


Yucca  angustifolia. 
„      filamentosa. 

,,      gloriosa. 
,,      recurvifolia. 


flaccida. 


EXAMPLES   OF   PLANTING   FLOWER-BEDS 
IN   HYDE   PARK   IN    1905-6 


Bed   I. 

1.  Autumn  planting  for  spring  flowers  :— Hyacinths,  margin  of  Saxi- 
frage. Day  Lily,  thinly  planted,  for  bright  green  foliage  growing  up 
with  and  above  the  Hyacinths. 

2.  Spring  planting  for  early  summer  flowers  : — Pansies  for  margm  i8 
inches  wide,  the  centre  of  bed  planted  with  Ragged  Robin. 

3.  Summer  planting  for  later  summer  and  autumn  display  :— Large 
plants  of  Calceolaria  Burbidgeii  8  feet  high.  Cassia  corymbosa  6  feet 
high.  Heliotrope  6  feet  to  7  feet  high,  finishing  off  with  Nicotiana  affinis 
and  sylvestris,  Lantana  Drap  d'Or  with  Lilium  longiflorum  mterspersed. 

Bed  2. 

1 .  Autumn  planting  for  spring  flowers  :— Tulips,  margin  of  Saxifrage. 
Iris  germanica  for  foliage  planted  thinly  with  bulbs. 

2.  Delphiniums,  deep  blue,  18  inch  margin  of  yellow  Pansies. 

3.  Broad  margin  of  Dell's  dark  Beet,  remainder  of  bed  well  planted 
with  Cannas,  Alphonse  Bouvier,  and  Flambeau,  brilliant  crimson  flowers. 

Bed  3. 

1.  Autumn  planting  for  spring  flowers  :— Narcissus  Emperor  with  a 
6  to  I  mixture  of  Hyacinth  King  of  the  Blues,  margin  of  Saxifrage. 

2.  Broad  margin  of  Pansies,  remainder  of  bed  filled  with   Erigeron 

speciosum. 

3.  Large  plants  in  pots  of  Ivy-leaved  Pelargonium  Madame  Crousse, 
6  feet  high,  placed  5  feet  apart.  Margin  and  intermediate  spaces  planted 
with  dwarf  plants  of  a  deeper  coloured  Ivy-leaved  Pelargonium. 

Bed  4. 

1.  Autumn  planting  for  spring  flowers  : — Hyacinths  Czar  Peter, 
light-blue,  Gigantea  blush,  margin  of  Saxifrage. 

2.  Dictamnus  in  two  colours,  about  2  feet  apart,  ground  of  bed 
Anemone  coronaria  marj^ined  with  Saxifraga  Camposii. 

3.  Gymnothrix  latifolia,  Kochia  scoparia  tricophylla  interspersed  with 
Acalypha  musaica. 

375 


3/6     LONDON    PARKS    &   GARDENS 

Bed  5. 

1.  Dark  Wallflowers  with  margin  of  Gardiner's  Garter  (Phalaris). 

2.  Pelargonium  Achievement  4  feet  high  and  4  feet  apart,  centre  of 
bed  and  margin  planted  with  dwarf  plants  of  same  variety. 

3.  Celosia  pyramidalis  crimson  and  gold,  with  some  crimson  Cocks- 
combs intermixed,  the  remaining  portion  of  bed  thickly  planted  to  the 
margin  with  Leucophytum  Brownii. 

Bed  6. 

1.  Autumn  planting  for  spring  flowers: — Hyacinth  Grande  Maitre, 
blue. 

2.  An  interesting  combination  of  the  following  flowers  in  rotation, 
fresh  ones  being  introduced  as  others  faded  : — Linum  perenne,  Ixias, 
Sparaxis,  and  Calochortus,  in  variety,  Oxalis  rosea,  Camassia  esculenta, 
Lychnis  Viscaria,  Crassula  coccinea.  Balsams  with  double  pink  blooms. 
The  setting  for  these  flowers  was  a  variegated  grass.  A  good  effect 
was  the  result  for  many  weeks. 

3.  For  the  remainder  of  the  season  this  bed  was  filled  with  a  succes- 
sion of  Lilium  speciosum  roseum  on  a  green  ground,  with  a  margin  of 
Agathea  ccelestis. 


INDEX 


A 

Bergne,  Lady,  garden  in  Kensing- 

ton, 335 

Acreage  of  Parks,  4,  121 

Bethlehem      Hospital      (Bedlam), 

Aiglio,  241 

237 

Albert  Memorial,  50 

Bethnal  Green  Gardens,  134 

Alma  -  Tadema,     Sir      Laurence, 

Birdcage  Walk,  61 

334 

Birds,   wild,   in    Greenwich    Park, 

Alpine  plants,  330 

117 

Anne  Boleyn,  no 

in  Victoria  Park,  139 

of  Cleves,  no 

on  Hampstead  Heath,  198 

Queen,  41 

Blackfriars,  9 

Annual  flowers,  331 

Blackheath,  107,  202 

Apothecaries'     Garden,     Chelsea, 

Bostall  Wood,  199 

3^7 

Botanical  Garden,  Regent's  Park, 

Archbishop's  Park,  307 

17,98 

Archery,  96,  97 

Society,  98 

Argyll  Lodge,  344 

Brewers'  Almshouses,  294 

Artillery  Garden,  292 

Bridgeman,  40,  42 

Ground,  10,  291 

Bridgewater  House,  350 

Austin  Friars,  14 

Broad  Walk,  Regent's  Park,  loi 

Avery  Hill,  183 

Brockwell  Park,  170-174 

Avondale  Park,  130 

- — -  old  English  garden  in,   170- 

172 
purchase  of,  172 

B 

rooks  in,  174 

ERRATA 

Page  16,  line  24,  >r   'Sir  John   Sloane'   read  'Sir    Hans 
Sloane.' 

M     42,     ,,       4,  for  *  places  '  read  '  plans.' 

..     77)     »     15. /^^  'Quintinge'  r<rarf 'Quintinye.' 

..241,     ,,      7,  for  'battle  of  Alma'  read  'battle  of  the 
Alma.' 


Bayard's  Castle,  8 


liurton,  JJecimus,  93,  100 


377 


3/8 


INDEX 


Cadog-an  Place,  239 

Cake-house  in  Hyde  Park,  28,  32 

Camberwell  Park,  126,  166 

Green,  168,  215 

Cam  House,  343 

Campden  Hill,  gardens  on,  343 

Carlton  House,  77 

Caroline,  Queen,  38,  40,  42,  45,  74, 

75 

Catalpa,  153,  286 

Cedars,  17,  3- 1 

Chamberlain,  Mr.,  house  at  High- 
bury, igi 

Charles  I.,  60 

Charles  II.,  61,  63,  67,  147 

Charlton,  357 

Charterhouse,  289-291 

Chelsea,  311 

Ranelagh  Gardens,  315 

Waterworks,  38,  76 

Chelsea  Hospital,  31 1-317 

burial-ground,  314 

statue  in,  313 

Chelsea  Physic  Garden,  16,  17,  317 

cedars,  321 

curators  of,  320 

new  management  of,  319 

trees  in,  323 

visit  of  Linnaeus,  324 

Chrysanthemums,  17,  159 
City  Corporation  Parks,  4 
Clapham  Common,  205-207 
Clement's  Inn,  262 
Clififord's  Inn,  263 
Climate,  changes  of,  69,  98,  128 
Clissold  Park,  141-144 
Commons,  185-216 

Clapham,  205 

Deptford,  203 

Hackney,  1S8 

Old  Oak,  199 

Peckham  Rye,  204 

•  Plumstead,  201 

Streatham,  21 1 

Tooting,  207 

Wandsworth,  212 

Commons' Preservation  Society,  185 
Commonwealth,  sale  of  Royal  Parks 

in  time  of,  28,  87 
Cost  of  maintenance  of  Parks,  5 


County  in  Town  Exhibition,  18 
Cox's  Walk,  177 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  29,  233 
Cromwell,  Thomas,  seizure  of  gar- 
dens by,  12 


D 


Dahlia,  341 

Deer,  36,  67,  74,  88 

Dell  in  Hyde  Park,  52 

Deptford  Park,  178,  203 

Devonshire  House,  335 

Dolphin  Fountain,  Hyde  Park,  39 

Downing  Street,  72 

Drapers'    Company    Garden,    12, 

292 
Duck  Island,  62,  72,  73 
Duels,  33,  86,  157,  341 
Duke  Humphrey's  Walk,  TJ 
Duke  of  York's  School,  Chelsea, 

311 
Duiwich  College,  175 
Dulwich  Park,  174-177 
rock  garden  in,  176 


Eel  Brook  Common,  213 

Eltham  Park,  182 

Ely  Place,  9,  14 

Embankment  Gardens,  132 

Enfield,  323 

Evelyn,  John,  29,  67,  79,  229,  232, 

293,  309,  312,  325-326 
Exhibition  of  185 1,  48 


Fairchild,  Thomas,  18,  128,  223 
Fawcett,  Henry,  163 
Fetter  Lane,  15 
Fickett's  Field,  236 
Finsbury  Circus,  237 

Park,  120,  125,  139-141 

Square,  10,  237 

Fire  of  London,  12,  15 

Flowers  at  the  Grey-coat  School, 

298 
in  Greenwich  Park,  117 


INDEX 


379 


Flowers  in  Holborn,  9 

in  Hyde  Park,  46-48 

in  Municipal  Parks,  124 

in  the  Temple  Gardens,  272 

of    Shakespeare,    151,    154, 

171 

suited  to  London,  330-335 

Fogs,  69,  128 
Foley  House,  89 
Fordyce,  Mr.,  89,  90 
Foundling  Hospital,  296 
French  Gardeners,  61 
Fuchsia,  17 

Fulham  Palace,  308,  311 
gardens  at,  345 


Gardeners,  14 

Company,  14 

Gardens,  Castle,  8 

City,  14-16 

monastic,  7-8 

Gay,  lines  on  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 

235,  282 
Gerard,  John,  16,  17,  19 
Gibson,  Mr.,  137-158,  228 
Godfrey,  Sir  Edmondsbury,  105 
Goose  Green,  213 
Gordon  riots,  194-233 
Gospel  Oak,  197 
Grant,  Baron,  228 
Gray's  Inn,  283-288 
Green  Park,  56-73 

fireworks  in,  75 

railings  round,  76 

Ranger's  lodge  in,  76 

Green    Walk,    St.    James's    Park, 

n 

Greens,  213 
Greenwich  Fair,  115 
Greenwich  Park,  106-118 
— —  birds  in,  117 

burials  in,  107 

flowers  in,  117 

Queen's  House,  113 

royal  pageants  in,  109-1 13 

wild  flowers  in,  116 

Grey  -  coat    School,    Westminster, 

297 
Grosley,  Mr.,  67,  281 


Grosvenor  House,  337 
Gunning,  The  Misses,  69 


H 


Hackney,  16,  17 

Commons,  188 

•  Downs,  186,  189 

Marsh,  189 

Hainault,  Forest  of,  122 
Hamilton  Place,  35 
Hampstead  Heath,  192-198 

Jack  Straw's  Castle,  195 

Spaniards,  194 

•  Wells,  192 

wild  flowers,  197 

Hatton,  Sir  Christopher,  14 
Heath,  Bostall,  199 

Hampstead,  192 

Henry  VIII.  and  Hyde  Park,  25 

at  Greenwich,  109 

Henry,  Prince  of  Wales,  357-359 

Highbury  Fields,  190 

Highgate,  10 

Hilly  Fields,  203 

Holborn,  8,  16 

Holland  House,  337-343 

Honourable    Artillery    Company, 

97,  292 
Korniman  Gardens,  177 
Hornsey  Wood,  140 
Horse  Guards'  Parade,  59,  72 
Horticultural  Society,  17 
Hoxton,  18 

Hunting,  25,  85-86,  88 
Hyde,  Manor  of,  24 
Hyde  Park,  23-55 

area  of  flower  beds,  48 

boundaries,  24 

cake-house  in,  28,  32 

deer  in,  35 

dell,  52 

— —  duels  in,  33 

flowers  in,  46 

forts  erected  in,  27 

fountains  in,  39,  44,  54 

frame-ground  in,  47 

■ gates,  54 

hunting  in,  25 

keepers  of,  35 

Parliamentary  army  in,  28 


38o 


INDEX 


Hyde  Park,  Plague  in,  32 

railings  round,  35,  46 

reviews  in,  35 

Ring  in,  28-30 

— —  roads  in,  36 

sale  of,  28. 

trees  in,  51 

water  in,  yj,  42 


I 


Ice  accident,  10 1 
Ice-house  in  Green  Park,  74 
Inns  of  Court,  261-2S8 
Ironmongers'  Almshouses,  296 
Island  Garden,  Poplar,  133 
Isle  of  Dogs,  133 
Islip  Abbot,  25 


J 


Jack  Straw's  Castle,  194 

Jacobite  Walk,  "Ji 

James  I.,  59 

James  II.,  67 

Jefferies,  Richard,  125,210 

Johnson,  Thomas,  17,  19 


K 

Kennington  Common,  164 
Kennington  Park,  164-166 

fountain  in,  166 

historical  incidents,  165 

Kensington  Gardens,  41-50 

trees  in,  51 

Kensington  Palace,  36-40 
Kent,  landscape  gardener,  40 
Kyrle  Society,  121 


Ladywell  Recreation  Ground,  203 
Lamb,  Charles,  15,  279,  285 
Lambeth,  305 

Lammas  Lands,  1 19, 186,  189 
Latimer,  Bishop,  306,  308 
Laud,  Archbishop,  305-306 


Lauderdale  House,  Waterlow  Park 
147 

Le  Notre,  61,  113 

Lincoln,  Earl  of,  8 

Lincoln's  Inn,  279-282 

Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  234,  282 

L'Obel,  16 

Loddige,  17 

London  and  Wise,  40 

London  County  Council,  equip- 
ment of,  123 

expenditure  on  parks,  6 

inappropriate  planting  by,  189, 

204 

parks  owned  by,  4,  121 

London  Fields,  188 

Hospital  Garden,  295 

Loudon,  54,  90,  99,  223 


M 


Mall,  The,  61,  66,  68,  70,  73,  77 

Manor  Park  or  Manor  House 
Gardens,  182 

Marble  Arch,  54 

Hill,  121 

Marvel,  Andrew,  149 

Mary,  Queen,  40 

Marylebone  Fields,  89,  92 

origin  of,  83 

Marylebone  Park,  84-89 

called  Regent's  Park,  91 

lease  to  the  Duke  of  Port- 
land, 90 

^ianor-house  in,  89 

Maryon  Park,  181 

Mayor  of  Garrett,  212 

Meath  Gardens,  248 

Earl  of,  243 

Metropolitan  Commons  Act,  186, 
188 

Gardens  Association,  121,  234, 

243,  248 

Milton,  60 

Minet,  Mr.  William,  166 

Mirabeau,  letters  of,  128,  220 

Monastic  gardens,  7,  8 

Montagu  House,  222,  232,  335 

Montagu,  Mrs.,  222,  336 

Moorfields,  10-12 

Moorgate,  11 


INDEX 


38- 


Moravian  Mission,  15,  311 
More,  Sir  Thomas,  311 
Mother  Shipton,  104 
Municipal  Parks,  119 
• — -  acreage  of,  121 

criticisms  upon,  184,  189,  204 

equipment  of,  123 

flowers  in,  124 

■  formation  of,  120,  123,  136 

greenhouses  in,  124 

laying  out  of,  126 

old  English  gardens  in,  127 

situation  of,  120 

Myatt's  Fields,  Camberwell,  166- 

168 
avenue  in,  126,  168 


N 

Naming  plants,  54 

Nash,  architect,  90-91 

Navy,  timber  in  Marylebone  Park 

used  by  Cromwell  for,  88 
Neate  or  Neyte,  24,  239 
Nell  Gwynn,  67,  147 
Nesfield,  loi 
Nevill,  Bishop  of  Chichester,  15 

Court,  15 

New  River,  142-143 

North  Woolwich  tea  garden,  134 

Nunhead  Green,  213 


O 


Observatory,  Greenwich,  108 
"Old  English  Gardens,"  1 51-154, 

171 
Open   Spaces,    Select    Committee 

on,  187 
Osborne,  Dorothy,  60 


Paddington  Green,  213 
Pall  Mall,  66 

Pardon  Churchyard,  Charterhouse, 
236 

St.  Paul's,  250 

Parkinson,  John,  16,  298 
Parks,  acreage  of,  4,  6,  122 


Parks,  classes  of,  3 

■ duels  in,  33,  86,  157 

lighting  of,  37,  79 

maintenance  of,  5,  6 

Municipal,  3,  6,  121,  122,  159 

Royal,  3,  6,  122,  157 

• — —  sale  of,  28,  87 
Park  system,  22 
Parliament  Hill,  192,  197 
Parson's  Green,  213 
Paul's  Cross,  252 
Pawlet,  Sir  William,  14 
Peckham  Rye,  204 
Pennethorne,  Sir  James,  157 
Pepys,  12,   15,  31,  34,  65,  79,  115, 

148,  180,  189,  206,  257,  280 
Piccadilly,  76 

Placentia  or  Plaisance,  108 
Plague,  32,  196,  226,  236,  238,  257 
Plane  trees,  223 

Plants  suited  to  London,  330-335 
Plumstead  Common,  201 
Portland  Place,  89 
Postman's  Park,  255 
Potatoes,  17 
Primrose  Hill,  104 
Private  gardens,  327-356 


Quaggy  River,  182 

Queen's  House,   Greenwich,    113- 

114 
Queen's  Walk,  Green  Park,  75 
Quintinye,  de  la,  61,  77 


R 


Ranelagh  Gardens,  315 
Ranger's  Lodge,  Green  Park,  76 

Greenwich  Park,  1 1 5 

Ravensbourne,  203 
Ravenscourt  Park,  152-154 

old  English  garden  in,  154 

trees  in,  153 

Red  House,  I3attersea,  156 
Reform  Bill  riots,  46 
Regent's  Park,  83-105 

architecture  and  houses,  91 

banqueting  houses  in,  85 

canal,  90 


382 


INDEX 


Regent's  Park,  deer,  88 

duels  in,  86 

flowers  in,  101-102 

formerly    Marylebone    Park, 

84,91 

hunting  in,  85-86 

Manor-boDse  in,  89,  97 

railings,  103 

sale  by  Cromwell,  87 

Societies  in,  96 

stone  vase  in,  loi 

villas  in,  93-94,  347 

Repton,  Humphrey,  231-239 
Rhododendrons  in  Hyde  Park,  53 
Ring  in  Hyde  Park,  28-30 
Riots  in  Hyde  Park,  45 

Rock  gardens,  176 
Rooks,  174,  288 
Rosamond's  Pond,  58,  y^ 
Roses,  9,  277,  334 
Rotten  Row,  36 
Round  Pond,  44 
Royal  Avenue,  Chelsea,  312 
Ruskin  Park,  168-170 


Saint  Alphege,  London  Wall,  258 

Bartholomew's  Hospital,  289 

Botolph's,Aldersgate,255-2  56 

Christopher-le-Stocks,  258 

Dunstan's  Lodge,  93 

Dunstan's,  Stepney,  245 

George's-in-the-East,  246 

Giles,  Cripplegate,  258 

James's  Palace,  57,  348 

James's  Park,  25,  45,  56-82 

animals  and  birds 

59,  61,  64,  73 

canal  in,  65 

cows  in,  64 
driving  privileges 

71 

Duck  Island,62,73 

flowers  in,  80 

' leper  hospital  in. 


in, 

in, 

57 
58, 


73 


races  m,  71 
Rosamond's  Pond, 

tilting  ring,  59 


Saint  John  at  Hackney,  245 

Knights  of,'7-8,  236,  264 

John's  Lodge,  74,  237 

Katherine  Coleman,  256 

Katharine's,    Regent's  Park, 

94,  437 

Leonard's,  Shoreditch,  18 

Martin,  259 

Mary  Staining,  254 

Mary,  Islington,  245 

Olave's,  Hart  Street,  254-257 

Pancras-in-the-Fields,  243 

Paul's  Churchyard,  250-254 

Sand    gardens   for   children,    124, 

139,  163 
Sayes  Court,  Deptford,  325 
Scott,  Sir  Gilbert,  50 
Seething  Lane,  16 
Serpentine,  37-38,  42-45 
Shakespeare,  flowers  of,  151,  154, 

171 
Shepherd's  Bush,  213 
Shrubs  suitable  for  London,  330 
Skating,  45,  79,  loi 

club,  97 

Sloane,  Sir  Hans,  16,  318 
Smoke,  69,  128,  129 
Spa  Fields,  247 
"Spaniards,"  Hampstead,  194 
Spring  flowers  suitable  for  London, 

334 
Springfield  Park,  144 
Spring  Gardens,  60 
Squares,  217-241 

Bedford,  232 

Belgrave,  238 

Berkeley,  222 

Bloomsbury,  231 

Brompton,  240 

Brunswick,  296 

Cadogan  Place,  239 

Cavendish,  221 

— —  Eaton,  21S,  239 

Finsbury,  237 

Golden,  226 

Grosvenor,  219,  221 

Hanover,  221 

in  Belgravia,  238 

in  Bloomsbury,  230,  297 

in  the  East  End,  238 

Kensington,  240 

Ladbroke,  219 


INDEX 


383 


Squares,  Leicester,  227 

Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  234 

• Manchester,  221 

Mecklenburgh,  297 

New,  235 

Portman,  222,  336 

Queen's,  233 

Red  Lion,  233 

■ Russell,  321 

Saint  James's,  223 

Soho,  229 

Southampton,  231 

statues  in,  220,  225,  226,  229, 

230,  231 

Trinity,  237 

Vincent,  238 

Sorbiere,  M.  de,  62 

South  London  Parks,  155-184 
Southwark  Park,  179 
Stepney,  Manor  of,  139 

Aluseum,  146 

Stoke  Newington  or  Clissold  Park, 

141-144 
Streatham  Common,  209,  211 
Sub-tropical    Garden,     Battersea, 

Summer-houses,  86 
Switzer,  Stephen,  39 


Telegraph  Hill,  178 

Templars,  7 

Temple,  The,  262,  264-279 

Bencher's  Garden,  Inner,  275 

Bencher's    Garden,    Middle, 

275 

Temple  Garden,  chambers  built  on 
the,  266 

flowers  in,  272 

Fountain,  269-275 

greenhouse,  272 

iron  gates,  271 

re-turfing,  268 

sundial,  271 

Wars  of  the  Roses  begin  in, 

277 

Thrale  Place,  209 

Tinworth,  sculpture  by,  163-166 

Tooting  Beck,  208 

Common,  208,  210 


Tooting  Graveney,  208 
Tortoise  at  Lambeth,  307 
Toxopholite  Society,  307 
Tradescant,  16,  298 
Trees  at  Fulham,  310,  345 

in    Chelsea    Physic    Garden, 

321-323 

in  Greenwich  Park,  106,  no, 

114 

in  Hyde  Park,  57 

in  Municipal  Parks,  125,  137, 

141,  144,  H5,  147,  151.  153)  175. 
182 

in  Regent's  Park,  103 

in  squares,  223 

pruning  of,  128 

Trinity  Hospital,  Mile  End,  293 
Turner,  William,  257 
Tyburn,  Manor  of,  56,  83 


U 


Upper  Park,  74 
Uvedale,  Robert,  323 


Vatcher,  Rev.  Sidney,  295 
Vauxhall  Gardens,  161 
Vauxhall  Park,  161-164 

purchase  of,  162 

Veitch,  17 
Verjuice,  10 
Victoria  Docks,  157 
Victoria  Park,  120,  135-139 

birds  in,  139 

planting  in,  137 

Victoria  Park  Cemetery,  248 
Victoria,  Queen,  Memorial,  80 
Vineyards,  9,  59,  180 
Vintage,  10 

W 

Wages  in  1554,  85 
Wandsworth  Common,  212 
Waterlow  Park,  145-150 

historical  events  in,  147-149 

ponds  in,  147 

trees  in,  147 


384 


INDEX 


Waterlow,  Sir  Sydney,  145,  149 
Waterworks  Company,  38 
Westminster,  10,  25,  38,  58,  299 
Westminster  Abbey,  299-305 

gardens  in  monastic  times,  302 

Little  Cloister,  299 

Whip  Club,  54 
Whitechapel,  18 
Whitfield,  165 

Wild  flowers  near  London,  20 

William  IIL,  36,41 

Wine,  10 

Winter  Garden,  Duke  Street,  219 

Wise,  41 


Woolwich,  202 
Wormwood  Scrubs,  198 


Y 


Yews,  Irish,  245 


Zoological  Society,  100 
Zouche,  Lord,  Garden  in  Hackney, 
16 


THE    END 


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Edinburgh  &'  London 


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